Falling In Love
by Foxissofoxy
Summary: Michonne knows what she wants her Mr. Right to look like but she quickly realizes she hadn't considered the important qualities that come along with character. (AU-Possible OOC)
1. Falling in Love

"When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. That's what I think. It's just a form of sincerity."  
 **― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood**

* * *

 _Knock Knock Knock_

"The answer is no."

Michonne didn't bother to look up from the bridal magazine she was skimming through, to see exactly who was at the door intruding on the minutes before her next client was due.

"Okay."

Michonne's attention traveled quickly to the direction of where the voice was making an exit from her open doorway. The bowlegs in the tan uniform, with a firmly attached holster at his hip, was ready to make haste without another word.

"Grimes wait! I thought you were someone else."

"Is this a bad time?"

Rick gripped the two brown paper bags tightly in his one hand and the manila folder he kept between his arm and body. He braced himself.

"I have my next Pro bono in twenty minutes. What you got?" Michonne eyed the paper bags and the folder.

"Lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Um, yeah. Mabel's Cafe is open again. Mabel made sure to make your sandwich just the way you like it. I told her you were back in town. I figured if you weren't there at the Café at around this time you would probably be here and probably hungry."

"Oh my God Grimes. Come in! Close the door."

Michonne eagerly awaited for Rick to do as requested. She moved aside her bridal magazine and closed her laptop. She cleared space for her lunch, giving Rick her full attention.

"Have a seat. I am starving. Please, I won't refuse to be fed."

Michonne grabbed her hand sanitizer and gave herself a small dollop and graciously gave Rick who held out his hand a small amount before he reached into the bag and handed her a neatly wrapped sandwich. The other bag held her bottled water and an ice tea for him.

"This, unfortunately, has to be a quicky." She winked playfully.

Rick paused for a split second before his breathing resumed. He had momentarily lost his train of thought.

"I have bottled water for you too. I don't recall you drinking anything but bottled water."

 _Dasani... Not Aquafina..._

Michonne was surprised that he was aware of her preference but disregarded it as pure coincidence.

"What else have you noticed Deputy?"

Michonne sat erect in her seat batting her eyelashes at him playfully.

"I noticed you were back in town. Sheriff Herschel said you were and you were...are."

Rick could feel the heat in his cheeks. The room became suddenly warm. Just him and Michonne together in a borrowed office space with the door closed. He relaxed just a bit enjoying the upbeat side of Michonne versus the hard as nails lawyer side that most people knew.

"I am. Been back in King's County for a few days now. How are you, Deputy?"

"Good. Started jogging more. You were right about how it helps to clear the mind."

"Good to hear. You look like you are taking better care of yourself. You had me worried for a second."

"I am doing alright, Michonne. Much better."

Rick thought to ask her something about how she was keeping herself up, but he lost his train of thought again by just looking at her. She was very attractive, and he found it quite distracting. To him, her dark skin appeared flawless, and he imagined very soft to the touch. The hint of her perfume was nice. She smelled good. The scent reminded him of something floral. Even with the desk between them, he wanted to be closer to get a good whiff.

"I scaled down to just Yoga. Now, if you plan to feed me this every day from Ms. Mabel, it will be the gym with plenty of sweaty cardio."

He realized then he must have asked her something about how she was able to keep herself up and all he thought about was her sweat. Their sweat. Sweat. Sweaty. Rick imagined how her dark skin would glisten and what it would taste like.

" _You_ going back to Atlanta would keep every day from happening. _You_ would have to remain here or live much closer for me to feed you every day, Michonne."

Michonne found his response interesting. It gave her a long pause.

Michonne waited for Rick to look like he really wasn't ready to bite into his sandwich to say a quick prayer over their lunch. It helped to distract the slight awkward thing that had the potential to grow if she focused too long on hidden meanings or outright declarations she thought she heard.

She bit into her sandwich, and her mind went with her taste buds.

"Ohh...this is so frigging good. Mmmm. Yum. Mmmmm... Incredible."

Rick sat transfixed. The sounds. Her facial expressions. He couldn't take a bite of his sandwich. He was lost in his head again. He placed his lunch back down and readjusted himself in the folding chair that her clients would sit in.

"Have you ever had something that was almost better than sex?"

Michonne asked after she swallowed.

The word sex leaving Michonne's lips when she finishes chewing caused him to be present and confused. He really needed to readjust himself in his seat.

"Don't look at me like that. This sandwich Mabel makes is damn near an orgasmic experience for the taste buds." She took another bite and continued with her pleasure induced sounds.

"Really?"

Rick's eyes were trained on the small crumb and a tiny amount of sauce on the corner of her mouth. He imagined licking the corner of her mouth since he had an idea of what her orgasm would sound like. He felt compelled as his mind staged a sexual scene but her own tongue found and removed it, and the napkin she wiped across her mouth was like the curtain call.

"You aren't eating your sandwich." Michonne pointed out to Rick.

"Oh...yeah. I may have to get a sandwich like yours next time I go to Mabel's. I think I would like to experience your level of enthusiasm."

"What did you get?"

"Turkey."

"Tell me about your turkey."

"It is on white bread with lettuce and Mayo?"

"What else?"

"Nothing else."

"Oh."

"I have been accused of not being more adventurous."

"Who made this accusation?"

"My ex-wife.."

"Well, it's been said that an ex-wife can make you into a better man for the second time around." Michonne chuckled lightheartedly as she continued to enjoy her sandwich.

"I am trying to improve. It's just that sometimes I'm not aware that I am boring."

"Don't look to me. I don't find you boring. You may have to find a very fascinating adventurous person to point out that you are less so. I am not that person."

"You don't think I am boring?"

"Nope." Michonne took a sip of her water.

"Still area of improvement," Rick admitted shyly.

"For your ex-wife or just in general?" Michonne was curious by his reaction.

"General."

"Proceed with your exploration." Michonne shrugged.

"What were you reading?"

"Admiring. I read case files. Bridal Magazines-I admires dresses. I have this obsession with wedding dresses."

"Designing or getting married in one?"

"Married."

Michonne's instant confirmation caused Rick's heart to sink heavy into his chest.

"I have been claiming it for the longest time. I refuse for my future husband to be an ex-convict or a dope dealer or some small-time hustler in general."

"Claiming?"

"I am speaking Mr. Right into existence. The perfect man will come my way and sweep me off my feet. I am making room in my life for him. I cleared a drawer and moved things out of the extra closet to make way for this future husband of mine. I even purchased an outfit for our first baby."

"Boy or Girl?" Rick laughed.

"Boy. His name will be Andre."

"Will your husband have a say on anything?"

"My husband would have a say on everything. Those are the only two things I am trying to speak into existence. A husband and a son. Do you think that is too much?"

"It's not too much Michonne."

"I need to be more approachable. I was told I need to soften up a bit."

"You must have plenty of choices, like the real confident guys, or fancily dressed attorney's from ivy league schools."

"Believe it or not, it's the fucking criminals or clients. The very bold ass guilty ones. I know I can do better than that. I know I can." Michonne spoke with certainty.

"You can," Rick confirmed. He felt he was staring a little too long. He found it difficult to just look away from her when he wanted her practically more than life to see him as a possibility or a potential option.

"Thank you, Deputy Grimes. Now take a bite of that plain sandwich of yours."

Michonne wanted those blue eyes to focus on his sandwich and not on staring back at her. It made her feel a certain way and plus their time together was running out.

She watched him take a bite before she took another sip from her water. His curly hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, jawline, slightly tanned skin, his bobbing Adam's apple as he swallowed. Soon her attention traveled along the broad planes of his shoulders and down along what she imagined his bare chest was like...

Michonne was startled when Rick spoke. She found herself back to the beginning locked by his curious blue eyes. Everything about him was no longer vague.

"That magic way of thinking or speaking things into existence, how long you been up to it?"

"It's not magic. And I am done talking to you about it right now." Michonne smiled back at Rick. "I revealed more to you than I have to anyone and I have no idea why I did that."

"I'm good at keeping secrets."

"I have no idea who would be interested in knowing all that makes me, ME. But I will be forever grateful in your ability in keeping your mouth shut if I indeed decide to share anything else with you, Deputy Grimes."

"You can call me, Rick."

"Rick?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I am trying to be two steps ahead of you, but I have no clue what the hell is going on."

"We are eating lunch."

"We have eaten lunch plenty of times before in Mabel's Café, and this is the first time I noticed that you are shy."

"You got that out of me asking you to call me Rick?"

"Well without your partner Shane to overtake a conversation..."

"He's a good guy. He's misunderstood most times."

"First impressions are important, and each time he has proven he is a bonafide-Asshole."

"Well, this folder is courtesy of Asshole. His way of saying sorry." Rick slid the folder over to Michonne who noticed the name on the tab.

"I asked for this yesterday. Tell him that he did the right thing by not coming and giving it to me himself. Was that what this food was for to -"

"There is Sheriff's Ball Saturday Night and-"

"No. You tell Shane, I said exactly that. NO! I am not going to a Sheriff's Ball with him. The hell."

* * *

Shane stopped the Sheriff cruiser he was driving in the middle of the parking lot with his partner in the passenger seat.

"Twenty Minutes later and you still didn't ask her?"

"I have no idea where it all went wrong."

Rick kept knocking the back of his head into the headrest three times. He felt utterly defeated.

"Are you shitting me? Twenty minutes?" Shane couldn't believe the amount of time wasted sitting in their work vehicle supposedly waiting for his friend to ask Michonne to the Sheriff's ball.

"I have no idea why she thought you were asking."

"Me asking what?"

"That I was asking for you."

"Asking what?"

"Asking her to the Ball for you?"

"Why in the hell would she think that?"

"I'm re-playing it in my mind, Shane. I have no idea."

"Why in the hell would she think I would send a boy to do a grown man's job. If I wanted to go to the Sheriff's Ball with Michonne, I would have asked her myself. I wouldn't send you to ask like we are in fucking 7th grade. That woman is crazy with a twisted imagination if she thinks I want to date her or anyone associated with her."

"If you would have asked, the answer was, NO."

"Well damn. Lucky for me I was never ever going to ask her, and just the way you're relaying the shit makes me want to go inside there and inform her, face to face."

"She is with a client."

"I don't give a shit. I am an officer of the law."

"Good luck using that logic with her." Rick half smiled at the thought,

"Why didn't you correct the situation and tell her you were asking?"

"The way she said no..." Rick knew he would have been crushed beyond repair.

"Can we just move the fuck on to easier fish? How about Jessie Anderson in dispatch, or Maggie, the waitress at Mabel's Cafe, or how about Dawn in the investigative unit? That's just the three I am throwing from the top of my head. Hell!"

"I'll just go alone. No big deal, really."

"This is a side of you I wasn't aware of, and it's magnified. The shit is disturbing."

"What?"

"When the hell you become fucking shy?"

"She said the same thing."

"Holy hell, man!"

"I'm not shy! She's just different."

"No. You are different. You didn't have these difficulties with Lori in the beginning."

"Well, Lori did much of the leading and I pretty much followed."

"I told you to get as much pussy as possible before marrying Lori. You didn't listen to me then, but I sure hope you listen to me now. Move the hell on. You ain't got the right kind of bait or strong enough line to hook that type of fish, plain and simple."

* * *

"Look at that pretty lady stepping up in here at this hour in the day. You are early."

Michonne stepped inside of the Diner. She loved the ambiance of feeling like she stepped into the 1950s when entering and hearing music from that period.

"Morning, Mabel." Michonne greeted the older African American woman who owned the place.

"How are you doing, Michonne?"

"Doing well."

"Good to hear."

"Glad to see you are back in business." Michonne looked around the busy diner.

"Yes, Lawd. I am glad to be back up and running. The devil was trying to keep me down, but I wasn't bowing out, and I wasn't bowing down. I said somebody hold my mule when that Pattybelle Dixon came up in here stirring up trouble. Not in Mabel's Café. Not here. You take that shit down to the Honky Tonk."

"Hold my mule, Ms. Mabel?" Michonne laughed with no understanding of the term.

"Yes, Child. Next thing I know I'd made it on the front page of King's County Square newspaper. We too old to be fighting but we fought that day. Yes, indeed. Pattybelle may look like a man, but I was ready to beat her down like I was one."

"I hope you invested in a more break resistant window this time?"

"Invested in a lot more things. I hired T-Dogg and Dale that you sent my way. They both some good workers. I was leery about felons and even more leery about a felon who lives in an RV, but they had your and Andrea's stamp of approval. I took a chance."

"Thank you for giving them a chance."

"You come to check up on them? They ain't here just yet. It's just me, Zach, and I got Tyrese on the grill. Maggie should be in by Noon."

"I come to gain weight. That is all your food is going to do to me while I am here for the next couple of days."

"Deputy said he was going to take you that sandwich."

"He did, and it was good too."

"Can't believe he is shy."

"Yeah. He's a sweetie."

"He was definitely nervous about taking that lunch to you. Grown ass man that is shy. My Mama Beulah, may she rest in peace, always said to go for the shy ones. I never did. I went for the loud ones. Womanizers and the general no counts. It was kind of cute to see him practice how he was going to ask you to the Sheriff's ball."

"Sheriff's Ball?"

"He fucked up? Shane said he was going to fuck it up. Tyrese said so too. I wagered that he would ask."

"I thought he was asking for Shane."

"Why would you think Shane would need anyone to ask anything for him?"

"How did I get that so wrong?"

"Has Shane been showing you interest?"

"Shane is talkative. Rick in comparison didn't say much. My focus was on nipping any and everything in the bud with Shane."

"Don't start nothing, won't be nothing." Mabel laughed.

"Right. I had never considered Deputy Grimes...Rick."

"Sometimes we have it set in our mind what we want our Mr. Right to look like. We never seem to take into consideration qualities we want our Mister Right to have. You need to ask yourself do you want a man with good character or just a good-looking man?"

"Do I have to choose?"

"If you take your time you will realize you don't have to forego one for the other."

* * *

"Now your suit is dirty, Rick."

"It's okay, Michonne. Your tire is changed. That's what matters, right?"

"You were on your way to the Sheriff's Ball tonight."

"I was on my way, and I notice this particular white Mercedes on the side of the road with a flat. I know your car, when I see it, Michonne. Do you really expect me to drive on past and not help?"

"I had road service on the way."

"Where are they?"

"Oh my God, I feel terrible. What about your date?"

"I didn't have one."

Rick's candor hit Michonne in such a way she was slightly embarrassed that she thought Shane wanted her as his date for the Ball. It was Grimes. And if he were to have asked she wasn't sure if she would have accepted the invite due to her hectic schedule and no real chemistry until he stood before her in that damn suit.

"I have to make this up to you somehow?"

"I don't know how I keep making things so awkward with you or between us."

"Let me make this up to you quick. Please?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"You want to follow me back to my house so I can get cleaned up? We can probably have a better discussion of how you can make this up to me so you can feel better while at my place."

The words left Rick's lips before he could get a hold of them. He wasn't trying to be too forward or make Michonne uncomfortable, but his wording was questionable. He just couldn't figure out how to clean it up to make it sound strictly platonic.

"I can't be out too late... I have to be back in Atlanta by morning. Do you have food at your place?"

"I do."

"I will cook something. As repayment."

"You want to cook?" Rick thought the suggestion was odd.

"I do know how to cook."

"I have no idea if you know how to cook or not. I just figured you would rather go to Mabel's Café."

"You had helped change my tire. The least I can do is cook something for you."

Rick was speechless.

Michonne didn't know what to do with his silence.

"I am negotiating here. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I live less than Three minutes from here."

"I will follow you."

"Alright. Follow me."

Rick climbed into his Dodge Ram his hands had only stopped shaking once he gripped the steering wheel. He tried to recall if he left his place a mess. Did he have plates in the sink? Did he tidy up his bathroom? He had no memory or if his place was in disarray. If Rick could have wished for death, he literally wanted to die.

Michonne glanced through her rearview mirror. Her heart was racing. She did not realize the man in the suit could look so fucking good. He was attractive in the Deputy uniform but Goddamn. Grime's work uniform had nothing on his Black Suit! Just watching him change her tire Michonne knew she was pregnant. Only by looking at him. Now she couldn't believe she had told him she could cook. She didn't know how to cook. Number one reason her kitchen was immaculate was that she didn't cook at all. She too wished to die.


	2. Is It Tea or Cyrano De Bergerac

_"She did know that it's remarkably easy to fall in love with someone who is already in love with you. It's a little like falling in love with yourself."_  
 **― Sarah Addison Allen, First Frost**

* * *

"Am I the only one you like to harass, Shane?"

"You're the only one that likes to invade a man's space. Here is a man's world darling, right here at this booth during lunch time."

"Move over Grimes. I am going to sit next to you."

"Sure, Michonne." Rick obliged. His heart raced from being unexpectedly near the woman he secretly was attracted to, and it was almost unnerving. She had on the same perfume. Her signature scent. He was feeling heady.

The way he felt weighed heavy on him, and he had meant to confide in his friend Shane across the table when he noticed the white Mercedes that belonged to Michonne pull alongside Mabel's Café that day. Rick knew he would have to wait until all the details of Shane's night with Carol was completely rehashed before he would have the chance to get some advice.

 _'Sure, Michonne.'_

 _Michonne._

It was the first time Grimes had ever called her by her first name. He said it correctly, and it gave Michonne just a momentary pause.

This was the first time they shared a booth at Mabel's Café. The other seven times it was a table for four or five. This was the 8th time that they as a threesome sat together. The last time was a month ago.

Rick thought long and hard about asking Michonne to the Sheriffs Ball that was going to take place in less than a month. He was on the verge of obsessing about whether or not she would say yes or if it would it be a quick and easy no.

Michonne slid into the booth across from Shane who was visibly annoyed. He would have to put a mental place marker on his story that he wanted to tell Rick his patrol partner about the night he had with Carol and the Boa, now that Michonne interrupted and was sitting across from him giving him the stink eye.

"You know one day your ears are going to be privy to shit that you don't want to know, barging in the way you do."

"You are the only man I know that flap his gums non-stop, and I am certain it is about a whole lot of nothing." Michonne used her fingers and thumb in an up and down motion to indicate his chatty behavior.  
"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"If I have to make another trip down to the station to get files that Sheriff Herschel promised me that YOU would have on my desk by morning- you and I are going to have problems, Deputy Walsh. I've noticed your John Hancock on some of those unwarranted arrests. I am beginning to see a trend. I am really starting to put two and two together."

"Are you investigating me or proving a fuzzy math skill?" Shane challenged.

"I have your orders." Beth smiled at Deputy Grimes though the tension was visible between Shane and Michonne who sat across from each other in the booth.

"Beth could teach you some things Michonne. She is a ray of Sunshine even when you come to cloud the day." Shane remarked taking his plate from Beth.

"Is that so?" Michonne was pissed. The thought of being referred to as a dark cloud. She wanted to cuss Shane out, but she didn't want to prove him right about her.

"Lighten up woman!" Shane exclaimed.

"I am quite sure Grimes could teach you a few things." Michonne ventured.

"Is that so?"

"Like stay quiet. If you stay quiet long enough, you will catch some relevant facts."

"I have some facts. You are single. Educated. Childless. Petless. Can't cook worth shit. Your idea of a good time is watching Netflix or going to some damn museum to look at Art that could have been created by a four-year-old."

"You rattled off four facts. The rest were assumptions." Michonne was stunned that the asshole knew her very well indeed. Everything he rattled off was correct.

"You two are something else. I think you met your real match Deputy Walsh." Beth laughed. "You two should sit side by side instead. Right, Deputy Grimes?"

Beth tried many times to engage Deputy Grimes in conversation but found it quite challenging.

The last plate was Rick's that Beth placed down on the table. It didn't go unobserved that the young girl had a crush on Deputy Grimes who was old enough to be her father. Her comment caused Michonne and Shane to cease and just take an overall notice of the young girl's exaggerations, and Deputy Grimes didn't reciprocate it by any means. Rick found his everyday turkey sandwich fascinating while his mind wondered if there was any truth that Shane and Michonne may be a better match.

"Would you like more Tea, Deputy Grimes?" Beth asked when she realized she wasn't going to get a response to her other question.

"Sure, Beth. Thank you."

"Coming right up. I will make sure not to make it too sweet." Beth quickly left to go and get the tea to refill his cup.

"Don't you start with that Shane. She's a kid. I am not interested." Rick quickly dismissed without looking at the plastered grin he knew the man wore that sat across from him and Michonne. He needed to have a talk with Shane about Michonne sooner than later. He wanted to stake his claim, and it wasn't Beth that he wanted. Rick didn't like entertaining women he had no interest in, and he tried to keep the conversation at a minimal for them to get the hint.

"She's legal." Shane quipped.

"I am not interested."

"There's Maggie. She will be in soon." Shane offered another choice to Rick.

"I am done here." Michonne had lost her appetite. "I am going to get this wrapped up to go after all."

"No, you are not Babe. Move over Shane."

"What the hell? Are we being invaded?"

"Move...Slide." Andrea waited for Shane to slide over to allow her room to sit next to him in the booth.

"My Lady friend won't like this," Shane said as he complied.

"Which one? Rumor is you have many." Andrea laughed. She was completely unbothered.

Rick smirked, and Michonne shook her head.

"Sasha here with you?" Michonne asked Andrea.

"No. Sasha has met someone."

"Who?"

"The hell if I know."

"How'd you get here?" Michonne was surprised to see her friend.

"Walked from the hotel over to here."

"If I'd known Andrea that you wanted to come this way, I would have picked you up when I left the office."

"I wanted to walk. I'm good, Babe."

"Babe?" Shane questioned.

"Legal and barely legal. Your friend Rick has a problem with it. Respect it." Michonne pointed between her and Andrea and alluded to Rick and Beth when she eyed Shane.

"What in the hell are you going on about, Darlin?"

"Beth. Before Andrea sat down the conversation was about Beth." Rick responded to Shane to get him up to speed. He was siding with Michonne.

"Who is Beth?" Andrea asked.

"The young waitress." Michonne tipped her head in the direction for Andrea to find the topic of conversation.  
Andrea noticed the young blonde working the other tables and nodded in agreement, "She is just a kid. No decent man would consider that out loud."

Shane began to turn red from embarrassment.

"But, we are talking about a man that questions why I use a term of endearment such as Babe towards you."

Andrea winked at Michonne.

"Are you two here for pleasure or purely to cause displeasure?" Shane asked.

"Shane are you fighting something down deep inside, like lack of control. You can't stand losing control?"

"I like routine. I like the monotony of life. The big city comes crashing into small-town life, not so much."

"You are friends with him?" Andrea glanced over at Rick who was sitting next to Michonne.

"Since grade school." Rick eyed Shane. He was hoping that this wasn't going to go downhill like his gut was telling him.

"My partner over there is like a brother," Shane informed Andrea.

"Well, Babe and I over there are like sisters. I think that was what you wanted to hear. Clarification. We are not lesbians. Never have been but it is certainly not off the table, right babe?"

Andrea winked again at Michonne who wasn't amused.

"Two single female attorneys I am finding to be no fun at all, and yet they find themselves at this table with two single Deputies that wouldn't even consider dating them in a million years and do you want to know why?" Shane boldly ventured into dangerous territory with his assumptions.

"Because of crazy talk like that. Rick, there is like a brother but I promise you fucking him is never nor will it ever be on the table to be considered. I am not even asking his ass to respond. NO consideration. Hell!"

"If you are secure in your sexuality what does it matter?"

"It matters not to offer up things that aren't up for consideration." Shane quickly responded.

"I just want you to know Shane is my best friend, but he speaks for himself."

"What the fuck?" Shane was shocked when Rick spoke up, out of the blue.

"About not wanting to date either of the ladies here. The messing around with each other, yeah. NO. Not under consideration." Rick tried to clarify, but Andrea and Michonne found it humorous. The two women knew what he had meant.

"He's cute Michonne."

"He is," Michonne commented without much thought nor any additional meaning beyond just that.

Andrea aimed her interest on to the Deputy that sat next to her friend. They locked eyes for a moment and instantly he conveyed quite a bit of meaning when he cut his eye to Michonne and gazed back to his plate.

Michonne had pushed her plate to Andrea to share. She needed Andrea to stop making a moment more awkward than it needed. She had only caught Andrea's blatant flirtatious look thrown across the table at the divorced Deputy. She wasn't aware of Rick conveying his interest was sitting right next to him.

Rick took, _'He is_ ' to heart. A green light into possibilities with Michonne.

"I'm sorry Deputy Grimes. Mabel wanted to make a fresh batch of tea for you. Fresh cut lemons too. Not too sweet just the way you like it." Beth eagerly leaned in with the full pitcher to refill his glass.

"A whole pitcher of tea for Deputy Grimes just the way he likes it or the way everyone would drink it?"

Andrea asked curious about the young girl's motives.

"Umm..." Beth was stumped.

"Just the way most men with any taste would like it." Shane offered.

"Time to go." Michonne reacted.

"Would you like a box or anything, Ma'am?" Beth asked.

"There is nothing to box," Andrea replied after eating the last four French fries and grabbing the other half of the sandwich. "I would love to have a glass of that just right sweet tea you made for Deputy Grimes. How about you, Michonne, don't you want some of that just right Tea?" Andrea mocked the young girl.

"I said I was leaving."

"Anything else for you Deputy Walsh?" Beth asked nervously, unsure of the situation and how to proceed.

"Nah."

"I will get you a glass," Beth said to Andrea before making her departure from the table taking the pitcher of tea with her.

"This will go on Walsh's tab. If he has one."

Beth looked to Walsh who was staring at the back of Andrea's head, "Sure...Um, Okay." Beth turned and left unsure of who was paying for the tea.

"An attorney that can't afford to pay for her own tea?"

Shane waited for a response to his question.

"Do you want me to choke?"

"I got your Tea, Andrea." Michonne had her wallet out.

"You don't have to leave Michonne. You just got here."

Rick turned more toward Michonne in the seat. He was surprised that she was ready to go. Rick was enjoying the fact that they were side by side. He liked being next to her.

"No. Let her go. Scram. Beat it and take Andrea with you."

Shane was more than ready for Michonne to dismiss herself and to take her friend with her. He had a story to finish. Shane also wanted to describe the difference between a pussy with a couple of miles on it versus the kind that needed an oil lube every 3k miles. He couldn't do that with Michonne and Andrea sitting there. He didn't want to confirm that he was a bonafide asshole even if it was true.

"Stop it, Shane. It's not like we get to have Michonne's company often down here in King's County. We have a lot of people that make use of her services. I am pretty sure expensive legal services under any other circumstances. Don't leave, Michonne...Do you have the same amount of clients? Did you pick up any new ones this time around?"

Rick turned his attention from Shane to Michonne. He was going to show Shane or see if Shane would get the hint by him taking charge of the conversation. He was ready to steer and find a way to keep Michonne seated next to him.

Michonne wondered where the desperation for her presence to remain seated was coming from and why.

Andrea noticed it. Shane was stupefied by it.

Michonne decided to sit back and figure out the odd situation by granting a little bit more of her time.

"I have the same clients, and I have picked up two more. I refuse to take on more." Michonne was surprised by Rick's interest.

"I guess that's a good thing you got Andrea and Sasha?"

"Definitely. Those two come just as highly recommended. Trust and believe."

"You're the designated driver again, I gathered."

"I am the driver again. We should be leaving in a few hours." Michonne looked warily from Shane to Rick. She wondered when did Rick's blue eyes become so attentive. His smile always made her smile. She began to relax against her will when staring into them.

"It seemed like you all just got here," Rick replied.

The idea of not seeing Michonne for another lengthy stint was a kick in the gut. It meant more day after day of the same routine, same ole same ole. He likes the anticipation of running into Michonne whether it be in the elevator or the courthouse hallways, not counting the seven times at Mabel's Café. This time marking the eighth time.

"We will be back again in less than a month, and then you won't see us for possibly 3 to 4 months after that. Gives you all the time down at the station to miss us." Michonne joked.

"It would take longer time than that." Shane chimed.

Michonne ignored him. "Luckily, living in Atlanta, if there were any emergencies, King's County isn't too far away."

"I have been to Atlanta only once in my whole life believe it or not." Rick was trying to find his way to keep Michonne engaged.

"Really?" Michonne was surprised anytime someone would tell her that venturing to a big city wasn't accomplished often or that it was done very seldom if at all.

"Yeah. I was 17 years old, and it was a High School State Championship game."

"Which sport?" Michonne asked.

"Baseball."

"You played?" Michonne asked.

She found it easy to imagine a younger version of Rick in a players uniform.

"Yeah."

"What position?"

"Pitcher."

"You must have had a great arm." Her imagination took her to the stands watching him throw a curveball.

"I did. Scholarship and everything. Got banged up pretty bad in an ATV accident and that ended that real quick."

"Sorry to hear that Grimes. Well, when you were in Atlanta did you get to spend any time sight-seeing?"

"Oh yeah. We went to the Georgia Aquarium and the World of Coca-Cola."

"Two trendy places. There is a host of things to do in Atlanta. You've got to let me know when you ever plan to head my way. I can show you some great things to see and do. Not all in one day of course."

Michonne realized at that moment, she had offered something generally out of her comfort zone to someone she wasn't very familiar with. Usually, she would have said I can tell you the great places to go, but this time she offered to show...

"Of course. I would like that. I would like to come up and maybe do the bike riding tour."

"Bike riding?" Shane was dumbfounded.

"Oh my God Grimes, that would be so fun. We do have to do that! I have never found anyone that has been willing to want to go with me on a biking tour."

Michonne stuck her tongue out at Andrea who had always declined the idea of bike riding around Atlanta's historic communities. Delight was in the air, and as quickly as it started, it fizzled when Beth appeared back at the table.

Glass without the pitcher of tea caught Andrea and Michonne's attention instantly.

"Where's Deputy Grimes, Pitcher of Tea?" Michonne questioned the young waitress.

"You had implied that the pitcher of Tea was just the way he liked it. Where is it?" Andrea began to show the same amount of concern. They were falling into a pattern of jibber jabber that they have mastered when they found someone annoying.

"What kind of Lawyer are you? She had made the statement. Plainly she stated a fact." Michonne challenged Andrea.

"A fact? How he wants it maybe, but how it would taste from one taste bud to the next indicates that the whole pitcher was meant for Deputy Grimes. It certainly couldn't be suitable for me if the effort were made to make it just the way Deputy Grimes liked to drink HIS tea. It would also be a waste to pour it down the sink, so it makes sense for me to know if it is palatable for me or is this some form of discrimination?"

"Preferential treatment."

"Possible." Andrea conceded to Michonne as she continued, "Since I have no idea if this glass of tea came from the same Pitcher that was presented earlier, I will take bottled water, please." Andrea surmised with a severe expression and tone, but it was apparently in jest.

"Mabel made the Tea." Shane pointed out. "If you going to give anybody a hard time give it to Mabel. Not, Beth. She is serving, she ain't in the back mixing drinks. She has a harmless crush on this old guy who just admitted he would rather date an older woman like yourself, Andrea."

Rick's eyes went wide. Rick knew he had said he would date either woman at the table but Rick preferred only one, and he had never entertained the other, ever. His mind raced. The moment was going to become awkward real quick, Rick knew for sure he was NOT going to ask Andrea out on a date. If Shane tried to bridge a dialogue that included him going out with Andrea, he was sure he was going to lose his shit.

Beth was confused and near tears because of this revelation.

"I will pay for that tea and her bottled water. Add it to my tab." Michonne grabbed her purse abruptly.

Michonne found herself annoyed. She felt challenged by the young, the cheerful, and most blonde women competition that could hook any man. She didn't consider the two men at the booth romantically, but she did like to feel desirable if not possibly the better choice overall. Somehow the young, blonde cheerful girl was always the first choice, then Andrea. Michonne was never factored into the equation somehow, and it was most perplexing.

Michonne believed that the man of her dreams would be in Atlanta anyway, somewhere in Buckhead Georgia to be exact. It was just that this waitress could have any man based on very few attributes she exhibited alone and her friend Andrea's options became less the older she became and the more successful.

Aggressive, petty Michonne needed to be reined in and the only way to get her life and maintain any semblance of dignity before she left Andrea and the rest of the occupants of the table bewildered, she needed to go pronto. PRONTO.

"If you need any more files, I can have it to you today, Michonne. I will bring it to you." Rick offered.

"I appreciate that Deputy. I will keep that in mind for next time I am in need, I can bypass Shane." Michonne looked from Shane to Andrea, "If you are coming with me Andrea I suggest you follow."

"I'm meeting with Tyrese in 5, 4, 3,2,1."

Andrea spied Tyrese taking off his apron, and he was coming from around the counter.

"Tyrese?"

"Business."

Andrea got up from the booth without another word and walked over to the tall well built black man that could have easily been a former NFL player. He was in some severe legal troubles, and Andrea was helping him sort his way out.

"I can walk you out, Michonne?" Rick offered as he watched her slide out the booth.

"Why in the hell would you do that?" Shane's mouth hung open as he waited for a response from Rick.

"Because he is a gentleman," Michonne replied back to Shane. She then spoke to Rick. "Please, don't. You haven't even touched your sandwich. Enjoy your lunch."

"Eat."

Rick didn't want to eat. He wanted to spend time with Michonne in the worst way. He wasn't sure if he had a chance and spent a great deal of time contemplating the odds of a relationship.

Michonne stood from the table smiling despite all the conflicting emotions she was feeling.

"Yes. Take a bite. I'll see you around. Have a good rest of your day."

"You too, Michonne."

Shane kept his gaze steady on the man he no longer recognized, "What in the fuck was that?"

"What?" Rick was exasperated.

"Is that who you're sweet on?" Shane finally asked Rick when Michonne was out of the Cafe.

"Yeah," Rick admitted without hesitation. He was watching the Mercedes drive off into the distance.

"Since?"

Rick shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't exactly sure when it happened, Michonne occupied his thoughts, nightly dreams. She was his most perfect ideal woman framed up in dreads, dark skin, full lips, curvy body, more sophistication than he had ever had any experience with, Rick just knew that there was a spark that was lit and he was burning for her.

"Well, I'd be damned." Shane sat back taking some fresh potato chips from his plate and into his mouth, crunching loudly.

"I messed that up, right?"

"You are kidding me, right?"

"I need to have this sandwich to go. I have officially lost my appetite." Rick moved his plate to the side.

"I watched you chat up a woman that sat right next to you without any issue, just shooting the breeze. I even watched you stare at her ass until it wasn't visible anymore. The ass was literally out of the Café and inside of the Mercedes for you to stop looking."

"I want to ask her to the Sheriff Ball." Rick made his intentions known in hopes to shut down anything that could blossom from any idea Shane would have to want to tap it first or tap it at all.

"And you want to know what is up under that skirt," Shane added for Rick.

"That too." Rick began to blush. The addition was very correct. He was waking up more mornings with an erection that were caused by unusually intense dreams he had about Michonne, a longing ache that lingered throughout the day.

"Michonne Benton?" For some reason, Shane found it very hard to believe. He too tried to imagine but had so many mental roadblocks when trying to think of Michonne in a romantic way that he quickly gave up trying to bridge that gap in his mind from familiar foe to familiar foe with benefits.

She had already got him in trouble with Sheriff Herschel on more than one occasion. Michonne wasn't his favorite person by any stretch of the word.

"You think the Ball should be the first date or I should first ask her on a regular date, before asking her to the Sheriff's Ball?"

"Well, first you got to figure out if you even got a chance to have her phone number."

"Probably should start there, huh?"

"Good place as any." Shane realized he wasn't going to finish his story about Carol and the Boa and with the look on his friends face indicated he would instead be giving out advice all day, every day.

Rick stood outside in the driveway indecisive of what to do next. He was unsure if he had time to go inside to check what may be out of place, and possibly hide some things.

He remembered throwing his black socks at the television and that may have been four days ago. Rick never picked them up. The socks remained there by the wall, he was confident of it. If Michonne sat on his couch, she would definitely see his rolled up black socks. At that moment he began to wish he had some type of superpowers like in the comic books, being in multiple places at once would come in handy right about then. At that moment he had to settle with being revealed as a slob.

The Mercedes pulled in, and he walked over to her car door and opened it for her. The door was between them and the whiff of her scent. She was surprised by his actions. Her expression was different, and she appeared softer than he ever imagined she could or should. He sensed her vulnerability and shyness. This was new.

She smiled.

He smiled.

Rick was determined to find his footing as they awkwardly tried to move from the car door so he could close it for her, but his heart was falling, and he needed her to look away to break the spell, or he would lose all self-control and scare her off for sure. It won't be the inside of his house that will frighten her off but the revelation that he was so very much falling in love with her.

* * *

"I can't believe my caller ID says I got you calling me..."

"Bigmama, I need your help."

"And you ask me for assistance to boot? Let me sit my ass down for this one...Noah...turn that shit down I got Michonne on the phone...Now go on Baby."

"I told someone I knew how to cook."

"Why the hell you do that?"

"I don't know."

"Mmph."

"It just came out."

"How does something you don't know how to do, just come out as a skill set that only you have suggested you have, Michonne?"

"I hate myself."

"No, you don't hate yourself. You are lying again. If anything, you hate that you didn't listen to me years ago. Cooking is an important skill. It is a skill that can lure a man, catch a man, and keep him."

"I really wasn't trying to lure this particular one."

"Just the other one that you swore up and down was going to be Mr. Right?" Bigmama did not like the other guy. She didn't like him at all.

"I am almost to his place, and I really am going to need your assistance."

"Well, when do you got to cook?"

"When I get through the door, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"I am following him to his place right now."

"Mm mph. Y'all some fast ass heifers I say."

"I know him. He's not a stranger. He just changed my tire. I wanted to reciprocate. I offered to cook. Cook only, Bigmama."

"I have no idea why you offered that when you claim to not know how."

"It just came out."

"All that book reading to become a lawyer, I refuse to believe you don't have common sense."

"I need you to walk me through a straightforward recipe. I have my earpiece in Bigmama."

"Mmmph. How the hell you think you were going to get a man without the primary skill of cooking? Y'all young folks believe that it is the sex, and partly it is but let me tell you if you want to lure him and keep him you got to feed him and keep him fed and keep him full."

"I am trying to not look like a bold face liar at this point."

"But you are," Bigmama said plainly.

"Bigmama."

"You ain't got no friends that can help you perpetuate this lie?"

"They don't cook."

"Birds of a feather flock to-fucking-together. Lord help Y'all Jesus. A lot of fucking but ain't nobody cooking, but the Chinaman, Take Out."

"I am pulling up to his driveway now."

"I have always said if you know how to read and got a little bit of common sense then you should be able to cook... Being able to Read and Common Sense goes hand and hand when cooking. I really have no idea why it's so hard to follow simple instructions..."

"I need you to go slow with the most simple recipe, Bigmama," Michonne begged.

"Spaghetti," Bigmama suggested.

"You know how I feel about certain sauces."

"Michonne, you need to make up your mind right now before you get out the car if you're going to actually cook or if you are going to sleep with the man. Last time you did this shit, you were fucking when I thought I was helping you with cooking."

"MEOW." Noah made the sound of a cat and began laughing in the background.

"Oh my God."

Michonne realized that her nephew, Noah, was privy to the incident that happened months earlier when she told a guy named Mike that she would cook for him. Not realizing Bigmama had her on speaker, Mike had stopped Michonne from going into the kitchen with some intense kissing. He propped her up on the back of the couch and commenced to pulling down her panties and eating out what he called his chocolate Big Kat. Mike loved for Michonne to meow when he ate her pussy. She meowed.

"Go on somewhere, Noah." Bigmama tried to shoo her great-grandson away.

"You got me on the speaker again, Bigmama?"

"MEOW." Noah was laughing his heart out.

"Stop it, Boy," Bigmama demanded.

"This is different, Bigmama. This guy is very white." Michonne thought the reveal would get her grandmother's attention to focus.

"White!?"

"Yes, his name is Rick. He is a really nice guy. Really decent and considerate. And I am really here to just cook."

"Chile, just tell me what he got in his cupboards when you get in the kitchen. If he ain't got no dish soap, no vinegar, no hot water, no clean dishrag, a fresh sponge, baking soda some bleach, in no particular order in his kitchen, I want you to exit the house. Do not look back. You hear me?"

'Yes, Bigmama. I got my earpiece in, and I will say things out to you, and I will listen."

"I will disconnect the call if I hear any fishy business."

"MEOW!"

Michonne parked her car behind his truck. She had to calm her nerves. She found it tough to do with him standing in the driveway waiting for her. He was handsome just standing there waiting, and it was more than the suit. Michonne was beginning to realize it was the man in the lawsuit. Yes, he was wearing the fuck out of the suit, but something was off in such a disarming way.

The pounding in her chest seemed to make everything uncomfortable. She wanted desperately to take the earpiece out of her ear because her senses were heightened in such a way that it had been a long time since a man made her feel like Rick was making her feel.

Rick came to open her car door. She was surprised by that simple action, and with the car door between them, as she stood, it was enough to make her rethink what her perfect man would look like. Standing there near him, she had to remind herself to move out the way for him to close her car door. Michonne still couldn't get over how his blue eyes were intense. His breath was pleasant. Not minty, not smoky, or food of the day, not foul, just natural, excellent. He was clean shaven. His lips weren't chapped. She imagined right then under his suit lay hidden a very lean body. He was gainfully employed. Michonne found that she was checking off quite a few boxes with Deputy Grimes than she had ever done with any one man at one time.

Swoon.

This was the very man that she could so easily fall in love with-but once he realized she can't boil water...

* * *

A/N: I really can't believe I wrote these many words in one sitting. I hope you find enjoyment in this story. I will not go down the rabbit hole on this. Promise. I am trying to follow the formula. Promise.


	3. Is It Cereal or Cyrano De Bergerac

_"...you fall in love in three stages: lust, attraction and attachment."_  
 _― Jennifer Cox, Around the World in 80 Dates _

...

The thought of having her in his home was a bit overwhelming. Rick's thoughts were in a million places, but he couldn't help but notice the fact that she was standing in the same location with the same utensils in her hands. Rick began to wonder if he should make a move to the kitchen to find out if she needed his assistance, but he had an arm full of dirty laundry that he needed to put in the hamper and move that hamper to the garage.

The Washer and Dryer were in the garage. Rick thought if he put a nice sizable pile in the washing machine for a quick wash, he would have to remember he did just that, and not let it sit wet for too long, or it would certainly mildew. He knew it would be a day or two before he remembered that he had a pile of clothes just sitting in the wash, so he decided against that idea. It would probably be best not take the hamper full of dirty laundry out to the garage. He thought about placing it inside of his closet. That was a better idea until he opened his closet and there he found plenty more dirty laundry. He was overwhelmed.

Rick wasn't sure the state of his kitchen nor the last time he had gone to the grocery store. He hoped whatever she wanted to cook-up did not need any elaborate spices. Rick lived and functioned off of salt and pepper. Condiment-wise he had the usual suspects: Mayonnaise, Ketchup, and Mustard anything else was being adventurous. It was on his bucket list to acquire honey mustard and relish the next time he went to the grocery store otherwise he would hope to allow his taste buds be the judge on his food tasting adventure.

He was a bachelor, had been so for awhile. He didn't have a parade of women in and out of his home. He was lucky to have this particular woman gracing him with her presence of her on free will. She'd offered, and he had accepted. She wanted to cook. Rick realized the moment he shut his bedroom door behind him that he had nothing for her to actually cook. He was a bachelor. He ate mostly at Miss Mabel's Cafe. Fuck. He is a slob, and he is a liar.

...

"Oh my fucking God, Babe. Where the hell are you?"

"You know where I am. I am in King's County Andrea. You should be in King's County too. We leave in the morning."

"You have the only damn transportation. I can't get to Sasha. I have no idea how far away she is."

"What's going on?"

"Sasha had the shits, and she's trapped in the bathroom."

"What?"

"You heard me, Babe. I told her to call you. You have the damn car."

"I have the damn car to do what exactly?"

"Sasha, speak the fuck up," Andrea commanded.

"We are on three way?" Michonne asked, surprised.

"It won't go down," Sasha stated. She was locked away in a tiny bathroom that had insufficient water pressure to flush down her floating turd. She was on a date with the local town mechanic. He had a decent trailer that he invited her over to have dinner with him, two minutes outside of King's County borders.

"What, won't go down?" Michonne needed clarity.

"I flushed and flushed, and it won't go down, Michonne."

"What are we talking about?"

"She was asking me if she should get it out of the toilet," Andrea informed Michonne, sure she was making the connection of what was going on.

"What?"

"Her shit."

"It's a small piece that won't flush." Sasha described.

"I am hanging up." Michonne was done.

"Please don't Michonne. I am so embarrassed. I don't know what to do. I have no clue what to do. Help me."

"Where are you?"

"Tell Michonne where you are. Where you would even consider taking your own shit out the toilet? Please tell Michonne, Sasha?"

"I am at Daryl's."

"Who in the hell is Daryl?" Michonne asked.

"I met him awhile ago at Miss Mabel's Cafe. He invited me to his place tonight."

"I have no idea why this Chick even bothers to eat. It goes out as quickly as she stuffs it in."

"You couldn't hold it, Sasha? Like Really?" Michonne couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Michonne...She is **_really_** willing to **_hold it_ ** this time."

"And put it fucking where?" Michonne was thoroughly disturbed by the development.

"In tissue," Sasha informed.

"Don't you dare hang up, Babe."

"I have to hang up. I don't have time for this shit, literally and figuratively." Michonne couldn't understand how Sasha was shitting at a man's house. A new guy. How does that shit happen?

Michonne didn't want to think about what happened almost a month ago with Sasha. She needed her Bigmama to help her with the then and now. She was currently in Rick's Kitchen that had the appearance he didn't spend much time in it at all. There weren't any unwashed dishes left in the sink. The stove was clean. It was an older model oven. She began to check the first drawer she came upon.

"Please tell us what happened with Sasha. Noah has just been dying to know. You left us hanging on that story. We so want to know, Michonne. Did she really take her shit out the toilet? Noah says she should have thrown it out the window. I says you should have just hung up the phone and went about your day. Who has time for other people's shit?"

"There wasn't a window, Bigmama. I told her to leave her shit there, climb out the window and never look back. There was no window." Michonne could hear Noah's laughter and she was trying to not laugh along with her 17 year old nephew. "Noah, there was no window."

"No window? What part of hell was she shitting in that had no windows in the bathroom?"

Bigmama wanted to know the details of _that event_ and Michonne realized she had no time at all with Grimes coming up from behind her.

"Hey, umm, Michonne." Rick stood a few feet behind Michonne who held a fork and a butter knife. He was part way in the kitchen and part way not.

"Yeah, Rick?" Michonne was surprised to hear her name fall from his lips. It seemed to take on a whole new meaning. Her own name. Her heart sped up again.

"I was going to take a quick shower..."

Michonne tried to train her eyes to his blue ones but failed as she imagined unbuttoning the dress shirt with the visible tire tread mark stains near his chest and abdomen to expose what was hidden underneath. Surely, he could use her help to get naked...

"No fishy business Michonne. I am warning you right now." Big mama's voice was loud in her ear.

"...and I will get back with you in here in about fifteen minutes or so." Rick finished his sentence. He was hesitant to leave unless he and Michonne were on the same page. He wanted to make sure nothing had changed within the 5 minutes she had been in his home.

"Sure, Rick," Michonne responded.

"Okay." Rick was relieved nothing had changed.

Nothing had changed for him. He wanted Michonne here in his home more than anything he could imagine ever. He was happy, and It was happening again. For him, it was similar to walking a tightrope, and he was high, and he was so okay with falling, letting go of all his fears of always looking straight ahead, no distractions, being boring. If he knew for certain that she was down below waiting for him, he would probably take out his whole life savings, buy a ring and propose.

"Okay." Michonne smiled back.

She noticed the look of relief on his face. They were in agreement. Things were lining up. She could feel it. Similar to walking a tightrope. Michonne wasn't aware until then that was what she was feeling was equivalent to walking a tightrope. Not wanting to look down or up...just straight ahead because there he stood. Scary, because he was the one standing at the end of her rope. Was he the ONE? She had to be careful and approach this situation, slowly, carefully and with plenty of balanced logic.

The sound of Big mama's voice caused Michonne to look away first, and Rick took that as a sign to head out of the kitchen to his bathroom.

"Better be _okay_. Is he gone? Awfully quiet. Move back, Noah. You should be ashamed of yourself thinking some freaky business about to happen everytime your Aunt Michonne is on speaker phone. You don't hear nothing, and I don't hear nothing either. What's going on Michonne? Do I need to disconnect this line?"

"No, Bigmama. He was just, we were just having a moment again. Weird that it just seem to come out of nowhere."

"When you least expect it, is when it happens, Michonne. Ain't that right, Noah? Mmmhmm. Your Aunt Michonne going to get her a man. He ain't even going to care that she tell lies and such."

"Bigmama! I stretch the truth."

"Okay truth stretcher."

"I'm going through his kitchen drawers."

"Check the _Pantry_. I am quite sure you ain't following a man that don't have one of those in his house."

"He doesn't have one of those. It's a tiny kitchen. Just cabinets/cupboards and drawers. Older home Bigmama."

"What he does for a living, Michonne?" Bigmama was surprised yet again."

"He's a Deputy."

"Oh. Okay. He has a job protecting the citizens of the community, ain't nothing wrong with that. Now, what do you see in the drawers since you starting there first?"

"He has forks, butter knives, spoons of the eating cereal size."

"What does he have to cook with?"

"I don't see anything other than what I have in my hand and in the drawer as I described."

"Chile, you trying to tell me he ain't got _any_ cooking utensils?"

"Like, what Bigmama?"

"Like the shit, you have on your kitchen counter for decoration purposes in that expensive utensil container you got me an exact copy of. Yeah...that. The big things that you don't use in your kitchen do he have in his kitchen?"

"I'm checking in the drawers. Nothing is on his counters other than a coffee maker and a toaster."

"Chile, please look around. Tell me he has a spatula, serving spoon, food turner, wooden spoon, slotted spoon, ladle, a cutting board, bread knife, a kitchen knife, cleaver, knife sharpener, meat tenderizer...I know a cutting board and the other things I mentioned wouldn't be in no utensil holder, Noah!"

"I don't see nothing else. The rest of the drawers are empty. Plus you are going too fast. I am not sure what a slotted spoon looks like, but I am positive that he doesn't have it."

"What about a frying pan?"

"He has a pot or two. That's it."

"He doesn't cook either Michonne. If he doesn't cook, he doesn't have food to cook. Trust and believe what I tell you. You say his kitchen is clean?"

"Yes, Bigmama. A little dusty. No food residue or anything. Just one good wipe down is all."

"He got those supplies like I told you to look for?"

"Yes, Bigmama. Under the sink, he has bleach, dish detergent, paper towels, and a pack of unopened sponges. Hot water is hot."

"What about the other stuff?"

"I don't see baking soda nor any vinegar nor dishrags."

"I guess for right now it can be overlooked since he doesn't cook."

"What am I to do?"

"Count it as a blessing, Michonne. Hell."

"I didn't look in the refrigerator."

"He doesn't cook, Michonne." Bigmama insisted.

"He might have something like frozen dinners."

"What is in the freezer, Michonne?" Bigmama relented.

"Vanilla ice cream and Pizza."

"Do you like pizza, Michonne?"

"No. I don't like pizza Bigmama."

"Why don't you like pizza, Michonne?"

"Because of certain sauces."

"You say he is a white man?"

"Yes, very."

"Does he have milk that ain't expired? Un-opened preferable. White people like to drink out the carton and such. They show that on the TV shows you know. Like they don't know how to pour themselves a cup. Mouth right on the carton or jug. Makes me squeamish thinking about it...stop laughing at me, Noah. You know how those white people do..."

"They have beer too, Bigmama." Noah volunteered. "Refrigerator full of it."

"What he got Michonne?"

"He has milk and beer." Michonne sighed. "The milk is un-opened and hasn't expired. What am I to do with the milk, Bigmama? Do you want me to pour it into the pot and boil it?"

"Naw, Baby. Why would you boil milk? I want you to look in his cabinet. I pray the box is unopened. Please, I beg to Jesus that it is an un-opened box and if not, hopefully, the inside is folded down nice-like and you going to have to taste one to make sure it ain't stale. The whole thought just makes me squeamish...Stop laughing at me boy."

"What am I looking for Bigmama?"

"A box of cereal."

"What?"

"White people love their Cereal. They always on TV smiling with the cow's milk just dripping from the corners of their mouth like it is so good. Go on now, open up the cabinet at the top and see if he got some Cereal for his milk."

"Rice Crispies and Cheerios." Noah volunteered in the background.

"What he got, Michonne?"

"Cheerios and Rice Cris..."

"I am going to make you get out the room, Noah you keep that cackling going. I mean it. Now go on Michonne get two bowls and two spoons. I am absolutely sure you know how to make a bowl of cereal. Just in case you don't, you pour the cereal in first and then the milk."

"Ha. Ha. Bigmama."

"You two non-cooking people are a match. I certify that. I hope you two have a lovely time over a bowl of Ceereall."

"Goodnight, Bigmama."

"Goodnight, Baby."

"Awww. No, MEO-" Michonne disconnected the call hearing Noah's disappointment in the background loud and clear.

Michonne quickly wiped down the kitchen counters and the table in the small kitchen. In Rick's cupboards, she found mismatch bowls. She decided on the red one for herself and the blue one for Rick. She checked her purse for her Lactaid and only found one. She needed two. Damn. She had to remember to have only one spoonful of cereal.  
By the time Rick entered the kitchen, she was seated with both their bowls half full of dry cereal.

Michonne had batted her eyelashes in such a way that Rick thought she may be had something bothering her eye. He wasn't aware that he had stunned Michonne again in his simple jeans and flannel shirt. His freshly, showered skin and the soap he used had Michonne wondering if a single touch from this man could make her convulse into a shivering mess.

She had to blink rapidly to change the channels in her mind that were instantly at X-rated, and she needed to get herself safely to rated PG, if not to G quickly, or she would soak her panties from just imagining him and her in ways two consenting adults could find themselves enjoying each other. Lust.

...

"Pizza was out of the question?" Rick sat across from Michonne at the kitchen table.

"Yes." She debated whether or not to tell him the story about sauce and her aversion to it.

"I would have taken you out to dinner." Rick was embarrassed that he didn't have what Michonne needed to cook. Everything happened so sudden and he quickly felt the need to apologize. "I am sorry if I misled you, Michonne."

"Are you going to eat your cereal or not? I worked hard to prepare that bowl for you." Michonne joked. His sincerity touched her.

"Yes, ma'am." Rick began to take a few spoonfuls into his mouth. He tried not to watch the milk drip from Michonne's lower lip, but he was mesmerized each time it happened. He imagined so many things with those lips and what that white stuff could be. He found his lower half beginning to stiffen. He was glad when she spoke up. Jogged him out of his thoughts. Lust.

"I still owe you," Michonne said in between eating her cereal.

"You don't Michonne. The effort that you put into preparing this speaks volumes." Rick smirked.

"I can cook, Rick." Michonne sat up straight.

"I never said you couldn't, Michonne." Rick was surprised by the change in tone.

"It's just that you didn't have anything here to actually cook. You don't have any utensils for cooking. A slotted spoon for instance. You don't even have a frying pan. I think we are going to have to schedule some time to equip this kitchen with the right things." Rick liked the idea of _'WE_.'

"Right things to include, what else?" Rick was hoping Michonne included herself and if so he was for sure going to the bank and take out his life savings and buy a ring to propose.

"Food to cook."

"You really want to cook for me?" Rick sat back in his kitchen chair.

"I want to prepare a meal for you."

"It doesn't have to be my place. I can come your way you know? You can show me a little of Atlanta." Rick wanted to continue that conversation that they didn't finish in Mabel's Café week's ago.

"You would need to stay a few days, Rick."

"When?"

"You really want to plan something?" Michonne wanted to make sure he was for certain and wasn't saying things just to be saying things.

"I would like to do that. I would like to hang out with you."

"You would?" Michonne found his candor surprising and refreshing.

"I can get a hotel and..."

"There would be no need. I have a four bedroom house in Buckhead Georgia."

"Depends on you, Michonne. I will accommodate your schedule."

"I have downtime this coming Friday, Saturday, and Sunday." Michonne tried to pinpoint Rick's readiness.

"I will put in my vacation days when I go in tomorrow. I'm going to need your phone number and address."

"Hand me your phone."

"Let me go get it off the coffee table. One second." Rick left the kitchen and quickly returned handing over his cell phone to Michonne who began plugging away her personal information. Rick was extremely elated. He had her phone number and her address.

"How long have you lived here, in this house?" Michonne asked handing Rick back his phone.

"This house, a year."

"How many bedrooms?"

"Two. Just two. I didn't need anything big nor fancy when it's just me."

"So where do you see yourself in the next 5 years?"

"Next five years I hope to be Sheriff."

"You have a career goal. How about Financially?"

"Still stable. I have nice decent savings. I have great credit. I don't foresee anything that could happen within my control to change that. I don't gamble, so the odds are good things will be predictable, or the outcome would certainly be."

"How about romantically or relationships?"

"I would like to get married again. This time I will make sure, to listen more, talk more, appreciate more, and whatever else she would want more of." Rick gazed directly at Michonne when he spoke.

"You met anyone yet?" Michonne diverted her eyes.

"I have." Rick confirmed.

"Oh, really?" Michonne looked back at Rick.

"Oh, really."

"What am I doing here?"

"Because I want you here. _You_ being the person I met."

"You are silly." He was making her feel shyness. Michonne smiled weakly unable to take another spoonful of cereal. Her stomach was bubbling, and she needed to keep Rick talking to make it less obvious. "Kids?"

"I want a boat-load of them," Rick informed.

"What?" Michonne spoon made a loud clank against the ceramic bowl. She felt the first sharp pain in her gut. Gas pains.

"I've always pictured having more than one or two. I would certainly settle for one or two, but I wouldn't be against more than that, Michonne." Rick wasn't sure if he was saying the right thing or the wrong thing. He didn't want to scare Michonne away. He was negotiable. He had hoped she heard that he accept whatever number.

"You like kids that much, Rick?" Michonne swallowed hoping the pain that was developing would lessen.

"I do. I want to be a Dad. My Dad always said a man can father a child, but not many can be a Dad. I haven't fathered any, and if I did, they would definitely know me as their Dad."

"You seem like you would be a good Dad."

"I want to get the pregnancy books and go to the Lamaze Classes, the whole nine yards but I would like to be married first. I know that is the boring old fashion way and if I had a choice, that would be the way it would happen. I'm not completely opposed to other ways, but I am not good at being with someone that don't see things the same way where eventually, marriage if the baby happened to come first, is on the table."

"Are you religious, Rick?" Michonne was intrigued.

"My parents are. The divorce nearly killed them and as long as they are living, I don't want to put them through another disaster. I had to stay with them the first year during and after the divorce. It was hard to convince them that Lori did not want to work on the marriage and for them to realize it wasn't all my fault. I wasn't to blame solely."

"I'm really sorry, Rick, but you didn't answer my question. Are you religious?"

"Yes. I am Michonne. I am far from a fanatic, but I would love to have a couple of Sundays a month spent in Church. I would like my wife and future kids in attendance by my side. I like being with the community and apart of the community in that way."

"Wow."

"What?" Rick wondered if he had said something wrong. He definitely wanted to be upfront but the way he was feeling for Michonne he was willing to negotiate or find some common ground. He just needed to know what her thoughts were on the subject.

"I always pictured Sundays as sex days. Either recuperating from it or having it. _In bed Sundays_."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, Yeah."

"Every Sunday?" Rick asked.

"Saturday night into Sunday morning." Michonnes smile had a hint of mischief.

"Yeah?" His spoon clanked against his ceramic bowl. _In bed Sundays_ were something he never experienced with Lori, and for some reason, he believed Michonne meant every word of what, _In Bed Sundays_ , seemed to imply.

"The whole idea of a man that wants to go to church Sunday morning is nothing short of amazing to me. With his family..." Michonne sighed at the thought.

"So no sex Saturday night into Sunday morning?" Rick almost came off remorseful.

Rick seriously was contemplating giving up Sunday morning church if that was what he needed to do to know what recuperating from whatever level of sex the night before entailed with Michonne.

"Neither one of us are eating this cereal." Michonne stomach was bubbling even more than ever, and she was sure she was going to need to pass some serious gas and/or shit herself in the process. After eight spoonfuls Michonne remembered she didn't have enough Lactaid to offset the turmoil she was going to experience if she did not find herself out of his house pronto. Pronto.

"I am surprised you are even eating any, Michonne. I thought you were lactose intolerant. You were pissed off when Walsh bought you a milkshake after you told him you were lactose intolerant."

"You actually do listen. Now, because I have had milk, and I have been severely negligent with what my body can tolerate, I am going to hurry and wash these bowls out and-"

"Are you going to be okay, Michonne." Rick watched Michonne double over. He immediately went over to her side as she stood up from the kitchen table.

"Where's your bathroom, Rick?"

...


	4. Is it Baby Wipes or Cyrano De Bergerac

_"Me would like an invisibility cloak to get the hell out of this mess."_  
 _― Jandy Nelson, The Sky Is Everywhere_

"Wait, Wait, Wait." Michonne readjusts herself. The pain was subsiding. "I am just going to have to leave. I have to go." The thought of having to do what she hoped she didn't have to do in an unfamiliar home, around a person she wasn't familiar with, was unsettling and had Michonne highly anxious to bolt out of the door.

"You sure, Michonne?"

Rick was concerned about Michonne but slightly relieved that he wouldn't have to think about how disastrous his bathroom was, and he should have thought about it because if one had a guest, a host had to make at least sure the bathroom was clean enough and well-

His home was much older, and his only bathroom had a door to his bedroom and a door to the hallway. Two ways in and out if you counted the window, three. He knew that his bathroom could stand a much more thorough cleaning, but it wasn't the filthiest place. He did wipe down the seat before his shower and scrubbed out the bowl. Rick didn't realize the state in which he lived until Michonne had come into his home. He tried to visualize it from her viewpoint. He didn't like it from that vantage point at all.

He prayed to a GOD in heaven, if he got him out of this, he would keep a much more tidy house.

Cleaning wasn't a big chore or something he didn't know how to do. Rick was at a point in his life that he was extremely depressed to come home every day to find himself alone sitting in front of the television, with a beer and the remote. All those smiling families on his television screen. Families.

Commercials were the worst. The happiest examples of families presented. He opted for cartoons, and it made him only long for children even more. Commercials were the devil, teasing him, reminding him that he didn't have any. It was during one of these constant reminders that he threw his black socks at the Television.

On one particular day, it highly annoyed him that he didn't have a wife and kids excited when he walked through his door. The roles could be in reverse, she'll come home, and he greets her at the door holding the baby, Rick was negotiable with the dynamics but not so much with the woman he wanted or envisioned, Michonne.

"Yeah, I am sure. The pain's gone for now. Buys me time to get going." Michonne grabbed her car keys and purse.

"Are you sure?" Rick questioned. He was genuinely concerned as they stood awkwardly in the kitchen. "I can take care of the bowls, Michonne. Don't worry about it."

He wanted to touch her but was unsure if he should. His hands were close to moving towards her arm and then her lower back; he didn't. His awareness of being so close to Michonne made him nervous and clumsy, it felt more amplified, especially since the pain seemed to lessen if not vanish for her, to only ache in him knowing she was ready to depart so soon.

"Can I call you to make sure you've made it back safe? That you are okay?" Rick asked.

"Text me."

"Okay. I'll Text you."

Rick held open his door, and Michonne declined for him to walk her to her car. Her declining him, perplexed him even more as he stood there. He was upset with God, and he was upset with himself for not knowing what to do. Rick watched her hesitate, and instead of going to the driver side door she went to her car trunk and she walked back over to him, he was still standing in his front doorway.

"Where's your bathroom, Rick?"

...

"Please don't touch Babes, _You Never Know Bag_."

"I'm not touching it. I am going through it."

"Please don't go through Babes, _You Never Know Bag_ ," Andrea repeated to Sasha who didn't take heed to the warning.

"We both know the type of person Michonne is; she would never be in a situation to ever need these things. I'm in a situation to need these things. I don't feel like going to the store or doing laundry right now." Sasha insisted.

"That is why it is her _Never Know Bag_ , Sasha. You and I will _Never Know_ when, Babe is going to need it and if she needs it and doesn't have it when she knows she _should_ , there is going to be hell to pay. And who's going to be the first person she calls-me!"

Sasha went through the items trying to find things that could be of use for the then and now without further pause or consideration.

"She is going to kill you, and I am going to sit back and watch with great amusement when she does." Andrea persisted.

"She has a first aid kit. She has a survival book. A tiny designer jacket, change of clothes, two packs of Peanut Butter Protein bars, random toiletries that include baby wipes, pack of cheap Walmart panties-"

"She considers them disposables like tampons or pads," Andrea interjected.

"I just need some tampons this time before we go inside the hotel."

"You been pilfering through the bag for months now, Sasha. Here and there. Have you replaced any of it?"

"I will."

"Well, zip it back up before it becomes a good idea in my mind to disclose this to Michonne." Andrea catches the protein bar that Sasha tosses in the air before she zips up the bag that was in the corner of the trunk before carrying their suitcases into the hotel. Weeks later passes, and the bag sits forgotten for some time.

...

"Who in the fuck has been going through my _Never know Bag_?"

"What's going on, Babe?"

" _WHO_ has gone through my _Never Know Bag_?" Michonne asked a second time.

"Shit. Sasha gets your ass over here. Babe, I got you on speaker."

"I Fricking have no panties. I have no change of clothes in my Never Know Bag?" Michonne was near tears. She had just gotten out of the shower. Rick's shower. She had found the freshest towel in his small linen closet and dried off. She took out a bottle of her lotion and thought it was odd that it was used and then decided to investigate further into her bag. _Her_ , Never Know Bag was sparse.

"I forgot to replace it Michonne. I didn't know you would know. I didn't know you would be in need of the items and I forgot. I didn't know or think you-you would be in a situation to need it." Sasha admitted.

"That's why it's my _Never Know Bag_ , Sasha. Oh My God."

"What's going on?"

Michonne had door number one that led to Rick. She had door number two that led where to only God only knew and it was unlocked, and the window. She had to make a decision. It was going to be the window.

"I have the car. I can't even get to the car without going to it butt ass naked. I would have to climb out his window and never in a million years come back to King's County. That was my plan. My plan was to go out the window after putting on my _Never Know_ clothes, but now, I have no clothes, and the blouse I have on doesn't cover my ass."

"What happened?"

"I think I clogged his toilet with baby wipes," Michonne admitted over the phone. She still had in her earpiece.

"What?" Sasha was surprised.

"He doesn't have a plunger?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, he does. It's not working. It's making a mess, and I am about to throw up. I've been dry heaving, and the thought gives me-" Michonne began to feel a wave of nausea hit her again like a ton of bricks just thinking about plunging toilet water.

"You don't usually have the shit's, Babe. Shits mean shower for you. What happened?"

"Milk happened." Michonne was in a panic.

"How did milk happen?"

"From a bowl of cereal," Michonne answered.

"But you don't eat Cereal, Michonne."

"I did today. I have officially lost my damn mind. I'd stretched the truth, and God is punishing me for being a stretcher of the truth. It was either Pizza or Cereal."

"I'm lost." Andrea needed clarity, "Did you tell someone you knew how to cook again?" Andrea was well aware of Michonne's new lie of telling a man she has excellent cooking skills.

"It was either make a bowl of cereal or heat up a pizza."

"You don't eat pizza, Babe."

"She doesn't eat cereal, but she did," Sasha remarked amusedly.

"I only had one Lactaid pill when I needed the whole damn box for the amount of spoonfuls I had of cereal."

"What is his name?" Sasha asked. "Is he cute?"

"Please tell me it isn't pussy eating Mike, again. What is he doing in King's County?"

"It can't be Mike, Andrea. Come on now. Someone new." Sasha sat next to Andrea on the hotel bed.

"It's not Mike. I am not revealing a name. Nevermind his name. After today, if I make it through this, I will fade to black. I promise you I will."

"What do you want us to do? How far away are you? Do you even know where you are?" Andrea asked.

"I can't believe I am in this situation." Michonne was panicked.

"Remember how bad you talked about me, Michonne? I should hang up on you like you hung up on me." Sasha chided.

"She's calling me on my phone. You can't hang up on Michonne when it's my phone, Sasha."

"If she would have called my cell I would hang up." Sasha clarified.

"Are you crying, Babe?" Andrea could hear Michonne sniffling.

"Yes. There are no prescription pills in the medicine cabinet where I can just take an overdose and just die." Michonne closed the medicine cabinet door.

"Did you shit yourself?" Sasha asked. "That would be the only justifiable reason to off yourself, Michonne." Sasha reasoned.

"Yes," Michonne answered quietly.

"Girl, do you want a lovely casket and a funeral or your ashes spread all over-" Sasha was cut off by Andrea.

"I am going to hold you liable for anything that Babe decides to do, Sasha. Stop it!" Andrea demanded.

"I have no idea what to do with my dirty panties. And the thought of putting them in my Never Know Bag-I will have to burn this 2500.00 bag to ashes."

Andrea and Sasha gasped.

"How-how did you get the Never know Bag in the first place out of your trunk?"

"The pain had stopped momentarily, and I thought I was going to take that opportunity to hightail it out, but it came back twice as bad by the time I was next to the car. I popped the trunk and grabbed my bag and came back inside his home."

"He knows you shat?" Andrea questioned.

"Just say shitted, Andrea. We don't care if it is the wrong tense. Shit, Shit-Shitted. We do this between friends. Okay?" Sasha was annoyed. "Shat sounds so horrible to my ears."

"Says the woman who was going to pick up her shit and carry it around in tissue?" Andrea couldn't believe Sasha.

"He knows I am lactose intolerant."

"Who would know that Babe? What person would know about your digestive system and still allow you to consume milk?" Andrea tried to narrow down who Michonne was with and if they knew him.

"He knows that you had to boo boo. The fact that you poo poo yourself says to me that you need to hightail it out of there. I mean how do you tell a new guy, "Hey, by the way, I clogged your toilet, AND I shitted myself? No matter which order, you need to slit your wrist or climb out the damn window by snatching one of his damn T-Shirts. Pick your poison, Michonne." Sasha dished to Michonne.

"What kind of friend are you Sasha?" Andrea was shocked by Sasha's behavior. It was utterly juvenile and disturbing.

"I am giving it to Michonne the way she dished it to me." Sasha shrugged.

...

Michonne has done some crazy things in her younger days, but at this point in her life, she'd liked to think that she had her shit together. She was in control. She was educated, financially sound, lived well, spoke well, and kept herself to a high standard.

Never in a million years would she have factored that she would be butt ass naked in a white man's slightly dirty bathroom. The bathroom needed a thorough cleaning, but what Michonne needed to DO, she didn't have time to be picky, and that was what had happened, Michonne thought she had _time_. She thought she had time to layer the toilet with toilet tissue after she prepped her baby wipes to be next to her on the sink counter. She did not have time. What should have been a fart was a shart. An uncontrollable fart that has a mixture of air and shit particles. Shart.

Michonne was wearing a belted pair of light colored dress slacks and a white blouse. She had to strip. It was so embedded in her DNA that after number 2 meant shower as breathing meant living. The thought to wipe down only with baby wipes would have been okay if she hadn't soiled her underwear that lightly soiled her pants. Michonne didn't know which was worse, period blood or shit?

When she got out of the shower, she found no underwear and no change of clothes. Not even her stylish jacket would cover her in the places she would need to conceal. Just a few toiletries and one peanut butter protein bar.

Michonne had Andrea and Sasha in her ear as she quietly opened the door that led into what was Rick's bedroom. She had the towel firmly wrapped around her body and proceeded to his dresser. He had a nice big made bed. She didn't know why that surprised her, but it did. Before she could pull the drawer open, she noticed her name scribbled many times on a notepad, a newspaper clipping from the Atlanta Times with her picture and a book that was opened to a chapter "Don't ever get a Black Woman's Hair Wet."

What the Hell?  
...

What the Hell?

Rick stood outside the bathroom door sure that he could hear the shower running. Michonne in his shower? Naked? Why? Why was she taking a shower? He knew he would never wipe down that shower if that were the case, IF that what was going on in the bathroom.

Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding.

There was only one person that rang his doorbell that way-Shane.

"What the hell!" Rick said at the thought of having a visitor at the most inconvenient time.

Rick went to the door to find Shane dressed in a similar suit to what he wore earlier, brushing passed him to come inside without an invitation.

"Mercedes out in the driveway? Party was at the Town Hall Conference Center, called the Sheriff's Ball. Where's she at?"

"This is not the time."

"Obviously you two ain't playing doctor because I am positively sure you wouldn't have answered the door if you were."

"Shane, this is not the time."

"Well, I come by to give you your award. Everyone including me thought you were going to show up. I accepted it on your behalf. You are welcome, Friend." Shane was expecting a little bit more gratitude.

"Herschel didn't tell me he recognized me for anything." Rick was surprised.

"Well, you were, and that fizzled like I thought the thing with you and Michonne fizzled. How'd it come about she is here?"

"Can we discuss it later? She is in the bathroom and could be coming out any moment. The two of you together in the same room for any given time hasn't improved. You haven't improved. I like her a lot, which I know you know. I want the end of this day with her to go on a good note."

"Okay. I'm not trying to be a cockblocker. Trust me." Shane handed over the award. "I want details. The sordid kind."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah." Rick guided his friend right back out the front door in which he entered freely.

Shane allows himself to be maneuvered back out into the night. He hears the click of the front door and the lock. Two steps down Shane strolls along the short path from the front of the house to the driveway where he'd parked on the opposite side of Michonne's driver side door. He had perfect visual to the side of Ricks home where he could see the Dread-headed woman falling out of what was Rick's bathroom window. Shane watched her pick herself up, and grab two items off the ground after dusting herself off. He knew it could be no one but Michonne trying to stealthily move through the yard only to freeze when she saw Shane who was completely perplexed.

"Michonne what the hell are you doing? You on a reconnaissance mission?"

"Babe? Is that fucking Shane? Have you been like literally caught?" Andrea asked shocked. She knew that voice anywhere.

"Oh my God Shane!" Michonne stood frozen in place.

"Where are you going Michonne? You got a bag and purse. If I didn't know you and your actual line of work, I would think you were a new to crack prostitute that just robbed Deputy Sheriff Grimes, coming out of his window the way you did."

"Tell me he didn't just refer to you as a crack whore?" Sasha burst into laughter.

Michonne had taken her purse and swung. She hit Shane on his arm for even suggesting she was a prostitute. "You know full well I am not and you didn't see that," Michonne responded angrily.

"Can't say I didn't see you land on your ass, Michonne," Shane said firmly.

"I thought you were in the house." Michonne had heard his voice and thought it was a good time to make her way out of Rick's home and out of King's County, Pronto.

Michonne tried to pull the T-shirt down more than it was willing to stretch. It was a t-shirt she found in Rick's bedroom in his dresser drawer. It was brown and faded. In the night it was a poor choice with the full moon shining bright, it gave her the appearance of being nude. She grabbed the first thing after hearing the creak of the floorboard outside Rick's bedroom door.

"I thought you were too." Shane had his hand on his hips staring at Michonne in disbelief.

"I was," Michonne confirmed.

"I know full damn well you know the bathroom window was not the front door, Michonne."

"I've got to go."

"Not till you explain to me what the hell is going on?"

"I've got to go." Michonne insisted.

"Did he do something that made you so uncomfortable that you chose to go out the window? Did my friend violate you in any way?"

"Shane you know, Rick isn't like that. You know that." Michonne conveyed in her tone what Shane knew in his heart as well, his friend Rick was not that kind of man.

"My partner is going to be devastated when he realizes that you aren't inside. I am going to have to hear about it, and he's going to speculate that it was something he did."

"He did nothing wrong. Really. Please tell him that." Michonne insisted.

"Then what the hell, Michonne? What are you doing and why do it to him? I am entirely sure the pickings are slim for you Darlin, but that man in there would be more than willing to put up with your shit."

Shane just knew how to say shit that caused Michonne to bristle. The urge to cuss him out was strongest at that very moment. The slim picking comment alone deserved a tongue lashing that would give him nightmares for days if she weren't in the middle of her get far away from the shit plan she had concocted in her mind with the evidence stained on the garments concealed in her designer luxury bag as proof.

"Shit." Michonne was without any additional words when a car pulled up behind her car, blocking her in.

The occupants sitting inside the Silver Toyota Camry were an older white couple. The male driver quickly honked the horn several times and got out with the older silver haired woman, leaving the headlights on, spotlight on Michonne.

Andrea's voice chimed into Michonne's earpiece, "So you are at Deputy Grimes? Are you creeping with Grimes, Babe, because I thought you said you weren't interested in him? Are we back to lying again? Like is it official?"

"Andrea, you know she doesn't like to be called a liar, she's the stretcher of truth." Sasha was laughing in the background as the two women listened on to the new development.

"For heaven's sakes Shane? What's going on? Why is it going on in front of Rick's home?" Ms. Ella clutched her invisible pearls.

"Are you making an arrest, son?" Senior Grimes asked.

"What makes you two think this is an arrest or some crime has been committed when she ain't handcuffed?"

"You would also have to tell me what you are arresting me for, what law I have broken," Michonne added.

"He would have to read you your rights Babe, and I will be your Attorney. You have a right to a lawyer." Andrea chimed in Michonne's earpiece.

"I know that it don't look like it, but she is clothed. She ain't naked even though the poor choice in T-shirt she confiscated from someone's drawer ain't surprising for a new to the crack pipe kind of Gal like we have to stand before us but it ain't no crime when there is no crack or pipe." Shane offered.

Andrea was stunned, "Did Shane just..."

Michonne gave him a hard shove to the chest that caused him to stumble back a bit.

"There you go Shane, assaulting a police officer. We witnessed it. We did." Senior Grimes exclaimed.

"I wish this fool would have the audacity to bring charges against me. I would take all those files-"

"Okay, Michonne, lighten up." Shane chuckled. "I was just joshing. Damn, woman. These here folks are Rick's parents. Rick's parents this here is your son's lady friend. She was about to go back inside that house and tell your Rick goodnight. Right, Michonne?"

"What?" Michonne eyes widen, and her mouth hung open.

"Shit." Sasha sat up straight on the hotel bed.

"Shit." Andrea sat down next to Sasha in the hotel room on the very same bed.

...

His partially opened drawer drew his attention. He noticed. Rick was confused and then mortified.

Rick stood in his bedroom and realized this was the best time just to die. Michonne had been in his room. It struck him in his gut like an unexpected punch. He would have much rather her stumble upon his dirty laundry piled into his closet than to see three things that could not have gone unnoticed on his dresser. The three items were: his doodle pad with Michonnes name written at least a hundred times, a newspaper clipping with a picture of Michonne and a book, A Guide To Interracial Dating From A White MAN'S Perspective."

That book that was on his dresser was now on his bed. On his bed. He did not leave it on his bed. He had yet to finish reading it. It was given to him by Daryl a few days ago.

She is going to realize he is a slob, he isn't very forthcoming, and he is creepy.

POP! Gurgle. POP! HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK.

And then he felt the water at his feet.

...

"Noah, turn that shit down. I can't hear your Aunty with all that you got blasting in the background boy. Shit. Now, I shouldn't have said I was talking to you he is all ears now. You so nosey, Boy. Go on Michonne, tell me what made you think it was a good idea to take your grown ass out a window like a crack head trying to make a quick get away?"

"Bigmama, I don't know what to think since I found that book." Michonne hurried and took the groceries out of the brown paper bags and placed items where they were designated to go in her refrigerator or cabinets.

"Sounds like he ain't trying to be caught off guard, Michonne nor offend in any way."

"I feel some way about it. Like black women are somehow different from any other kind of woman. We hurt, We love, We fight, We cry-"

"And you take your grown ass out the man's window. I would say that book came in handy to show him that it ain't a black woman's thang but a crazy ass Michonne thang. How about that? Stop laughing at me Noah for I make you get out the room."

"Should I mention to him that I saw the book in his room?"

"No. You don't say shit. See what he learn, if he learns anything he will learn that Michonne moves to a different beat. She smart. She dresses real fine. She can't cook, can't keep house and me ain't talking about paying for someone to keep house for you-"

"I make enough money."

"I know you do."

"I am sorry Bigmama. I should have called you instead of listening to Andrea and Sasha. If I had called, you would have given me better advice." Michonne caved in quickly with her apology.

"Silly. Just plain downright silliness Michonne! Andrea has some sense but that Sasha with not much sense mixed with some sense and your inability, to tell the truth, and shame the devil, I say you were bound to make a simple situation worse than it need be."

"What choice did I have?" Michonne asked.

"What you should have done was ask that man to help you out instead of going out the Goddamn window."

"What would that look like, or sound like?"

"There is a problem with your toilet. Do you have a pair of sweatpants I could borrow? Hell! When all was said and done if it is a deal breaker, it would've been a deal-breaker. I just would not have taken my black ass out no window."

"Well, I did." Michonne realized how simple life would have been for her if she would have called her Bigmama instead of her two friends.

"Then what happened?" Bigmama was eager to have more of the story.

"Yeah, what happened?" Noah asked. Michonne could hear him in the background which was a clear indicator she was on speakerphone.

"I ran into his friend Deputy Sheriff Walsh in the driveway, and then the parents showed up."

"Oh my God Michonne. You know how to make us black people look terrible. Mm, Mm, Mm."

"Bigmama!"

"Were you naked?"

"I wasn't naked. I had his T-Shirt."

"A thief. Caught red handed. Lawd. This Grandchild here is a liar and a thief."

"I borrowed his T-shirt. I will give it back to him. I will. Anyway, I ended up back inside his house."

"Out the bathroom window and back in the house through the front door, ain't that some shit Noah?" Bigmama and Noah laughed at what they imagined had to be the craziest night for Michonne. "I need to know what you said to him as your reason for being outside his house."

"I didn't turn the shower off and a pipe burst. He thinks the plumbing caused me to jump out the window because he couldn't get the doors to his bathroom to open and he forgot to tell me not to turn the locks a certain way. The next door neighbor is a plumber. Deputy Walsh coerced him over to see if he could start working on the problem and I conveniently slid him a check with an extra 500.00 to not mention anything about baby wipes."

"Mm Mm Mm. If this ain't a crazy story and I thought nothing could top the Sasha one you told. Ain't that right Noah?"

"I'm back in Atlanta." Michonne declared. She needed to get to the reason for her call in the first place. "I need your help, Bigmama."

"You need my help after the fact?"

"He's in my house. He's sleeping, and I wanted to offer him some breakfast."

"He is at your house? Your home in Buckhead?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I felt responsible for some of the damage."

"Some?" Bigmama questioned.

"All." Michonne corrected herself.

"Better. You and your half truths and full on lies. Where he sleep last night?"

"I have three spare bedrooms."

"Mm, mm, Mm. Yall heifers sho move fast. So it wasn't a deal breaker for him?"

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't know. He's more nervous around me than ever before and I've become a mess in less than 24 hours."

"My word."

"I have no idea how this nervous energy has consumed me. I have never had this happen to me in my life. If I did I would remember."

"You hear her talk, Noah? Who talks like that? No one but Michonne. Nervous energy consume her. Mm mm mm. I want to know why are you worried about breakfast when you don't know how to cook Michonne? Why don't you go to Dunkin Doughnuts or Krispies Crème where diabetics can only dream to go and get your police officer what he likes to eat according to the television shows? Ain't that right Noah? Doughnut and coffee and he should be good and happy."

"I have never cooked in my kitchen. Ever. I have made toast once. I have a Miele Built-in Coffee Machine, so I don't make coffee."

"You haven't cooked in your kitchen because you don't know how to cook. And for the price of that coffee machine, I would hope the hell you didn't have to _make_ coffee. It should bring a piping hot cup of coffee to you, hell. Making coffee is not cooking."

"If he asks for eggs, I need to know how to make it. I have a frying pan. It is the Le Creuset, and I remember the sales rep saying I need to season the pan first. If I put Lawry seasoning salt or-"

"If you don't know how to cook why in the hell do you think you are going to know how to season a 200.00 cast iron frying pan?"


	5. Is it a Urinal or Cyrano de Bergerac

_"It was stupid to hope, she knew. But sometimes hope was all you had."_  
 _― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls _

* * *

"Big Mama?"

"Who this?"

"Sasha."

"What's wrong, Chile? I know this must be an emergency if you are calling me. How can I help?"

"I'm trapped." Sasha whispered.

"Trapped?" Bigmama became immediately concerned.

"Yes." Sasha tried to speak as softly and deliberately into her cellphone without being heard by the man on the other side of the door.

"Where?"

"In a new guys bathroom."

"You call me instead of the police?"

"Michonne..."

"What about my grandbaby-" Big mama's heart began to officially race.

"She-" Sasha was cut off from explaining that Michonne had hung up. Michonne wasn't going to rescue her from the situation that she found herself on the evening her shit would not flush no matter how many times she nudged the toilet handle.

"Noah, turn that shit down so I can hear. Put it on pause button if you got to. We can go back to it. This here phone call is an emergency, Boy! Go on Sasha. What's going on? Tell it to me so I can understand."

"My battery is about to die, Bigmama. I don't know what to do. I had to go to the bathroom. I couldn't hold it."

"Hold what baby?"

"I had to do number two. I just met this guy. I went in his bathroom, and it won't flush. It keeps floating back up."

"Lawd have Mercy. You call me for some shit like this?"

"Jump out the window!" Noah shouted.

"If you don't stay quiet, Noah. She is talking to me. We ain't taking our black asses out no Goddamn window. Not on purpose we ain't. Not if the house ain't on fire we ain't. Don't you take your ass out no window Sasha. Shit."

"That's embarrassing, Bigmama. Don't you think?" Noah asked his Bigmama to try and empathize.

"What? He doesn't shit? His shit don't stink? I don't understand. I guess it's been so long since I been out there in the world of Love where all my senses were clouded, including good judgment." Bigmama placed the last comment directly to Sasha, "All you fast heifers want to make it seem like your shit is like roses or non-existent, he got a crash course today, that is for sure."

"What should I do?" Sasha asked.

"Open the door and ask him for a bucket and fill it with water, baby. You know you got a good man it if he fills it up for you and flushes it down without a problem."

"I shouldn't just take it out and put it in tissue?" Sasha offered a different suggestion.

"What!?"

"I.." The phone disconnects.

"Sasha...Sasha...Chile? You there?"

"Her phone died, Bigmama," Noah informed.

"If that Chile took that shit out the toilet she can't touch shit here."

"She can touch me where ever she wants." Noah declared with a sigh.

"That's because you nasty and wet behind the ears. Want to hear everything that ain't got nothing to do with you. I just pray you learn some things from being so nosey like you are, Boy. One thing, it says a lot about a man, I say, on how he handle his shit, other shit, and shit that don't matter." Bigmama pointed the phone at Noah as she spoke.

"She probably jumped out the window." Noah imagined aloud.

"I know that Chile got more sense than to jump out a window. We will get the rest of the story from Michonne some time soon I hope. Turn our show back on. I want you to check out the news too to find out anyone hurt from jumping out windows. We know it was Sasha if you come across a story in the morning news on your computer."

...

Daryl hurried with a bucket of water, relieved that he would not have to knock down his bathroom door to make sure Sasha hadn't keeled over from his cooking. He was nervous the whole time while she sampled everything he had presented in the matching set of serving bowls that he had purchased days before at Walmart. Daryl arranged the food on his small table that he covered with a simple tablecloth that he bought from the Dollar General. Candles, flowers, the whole nine yards.

The book, Interracial Dating From A White Man's Perspective indicated that Black women liked to be dazzled with effort, consideration, and cleanliness. The book mentioned that it made the black woman different from white women because white women put in all the work of effort, attention and keeping things clean which kept the black man awestruck. A white man could do those same things like his racial gender opposite counterpart and have a black woman putty in their hands.

Effort, Consideration, and Cleanliness. Those three things will keep a relationship working with a Black Woman. Daryl was going to test it out. He was already employed, gainfully, the rest he was flying by the seat of his pants. Underwear fresh, no skid marks.

"Your shit floats?" Daryl questioned, dumbstruck for a moment as he was about to dump the bucket of water into the toilet bowl.

"You act as if you never seen anything like it?" Sasha glanced from her small floating turd to Daryl.

"I ain't never seen the kind that floats. I heard about it but never had seen it with my own two eyes. How is it possible?" Daryl asked.

"Healthy eating, mostly."

"Yeah? I didn't cook nothing healthy." Daryl felt guilty.

"Why, I used the word, mostly." Sasha smiled.

"I should have asked what type of food you like, huh?"

"I am not strict with it, Daryl." Sasha admitted.

"What's your percentage?"

"90% of the time."

"10%?"

"What you want me to taste. I will taste it."

"What do you usually eat?"

"Raw foods mostly. Why are you smiling."

"I ain't never thought I'd meet anyone like you."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Everything's been good for me. You?"

"Good for me too."

They were sharing a moment when Daryl spoke, "Let me flush this." He hoped this too fell under Effort and Consideration.

The bucket of water was emptied quickly and the air seem to become bearable for Sasha, she no longer wanted to die from embarrassment. Daryl wished in that moment he had a window, he would open it up and lets some fresh air fill his lungs.

None of it seem to matter when they had hand sex under the faucet of his bathroom sink. He stood behind her while she lathered his hands with hers. Cleanliness.

...

Hay un hombre blanco en el interior de su casa. Tengo mi arma. Puedo dispararle?

"What?"

"There is a white man in the interior of your house. I have my gun. Can I shoot?" Rosa, the housekeeper, enunciated carefully in English to her employer by phone mid morning.

Michonne was beside herself. Ms. Rosa was not licensed to carry a weapon. She was scheduled for a court hearing later that month for carrying without a permit, brandishing a weapon and driving on a suspended license. The gun was taken away in that incident months ago. Where did this gun come from? Why in the hell was shooting someone even a consideration was beyond Michonne's comprehension.

"Do NOT Shoot! I know him. He is a Deputy Sheriff, Rosa. You shoot him they will put you away for a very, very, very long time. Do you understand me? ¡No dispare al hombre Blanco!"

"No Shoot?"

"He is the law. He is...Es un Sheriff de diputado." Michonne's Spanish was equivalent to Rosa's English.

"I put away my gun. Where you find this one? He is not sophisticated like the others."

"He is someone I know. Not in an intimate way, Ms. Rosa."

"I suppose you don't. He made a mess with your Bidet. I think he was pissing in it."

"Pissing in a Bidet?"

"I guess better than shitting."

"You saw him piss?"

"Yes. He couldn't figure out how you say... the mechanics. And water everywhere."

"Is it a big mess?"

"Not bad. I will take care of it."

"Where is he? I am on my way. I just left the grocery store and-"

"What for, you don't cook? You don't pay me enough to cook. I only to clean. My job description says only to dust since you don't make big messes. That's why I like work for you."

"You work for me to pay off debt." Michonne reminded.

"Be careful, Ms. Michonne. Slavery is over. Jews had it worse than you, you know. We Mexicans are next."

"Where the hell you get that from?"

"Jesus."

"Paul Rovia? or Hayseus?" Michonne needed clarification on how the Jesus was pronounced. Any slight sign or miracle could easily have Ms. Rosa joined up with a Cult in a matter of seconds. Paul Rovia was a fake Jesus going around preying on anyone that was gullible enough to listen and visit the Hilltop, a commune.

"He says he is Jesus."

"And I am the Black Mamba. I don't want you talking to him, Rosa. I can't have random people in my home visiting. I can't. You needed a place to stay; I provide that with stipulations. I promised Rosita that I would look out for you. I can't stop you from heading to prison where she is if you are hell bent to get there where she's doing five years for weapon charges."

"I miss my Rosita." Rosa began to break down.

"Stop crying and put that gun away. Hide it. Did he see you with it?"

"No." Ms. Rosa replied.

"Where is he?"

"On cell. He walks around the pool."

"Go introduce yourself and I will be there in a few minutes."  
...

"What in the hell are you doing here, Walsh?" Daryl walks over to the Deputy Sheriff cruiser that was parked in the front of his home.

"Wanted to witness the hand off of this secret Holy Grail."

Daryl glanced over to Rick who exited the passenger side, "You couldn't just come on your own? You had to bring this jackass with you?"

"Ignore him Daryl."

"A book on dating black women. Why in the hell would you need a book on dating someone where there's nothing different other than the shade of their skin?" Shane asked leaning against the front of the cruiser.

"There's more to black women than the shade of their skin. The book says to be aware of those kinds of women that have lost their essence and become bland." Daryl responded.

"Bland?" Shane questioned.

"Meaning white." Daryl responded and clarified, "Meaning no substance, stand for nothing but will fall for anything, type."

"Where I am from," Shane began, "you meet an attractive enough woman, get her number and ask her on a date. There was just the simple science to it called step one, step two, step three."

"I met an attractive woman that ain't from here and I wanted to present myself as less ignorant as possible for a Dixon male. My brother being the Prince of Ignoramus and my Mama Pattybelle breeding all kinds of silly shit into our heads, I wanted to make a good impression and not make a complete ass of myself."

"What desperate black woman would even consider a hillbilly redneck like yourself? What intelligence is she working with, seriously?" Shane queried.

"Highly intelligent. Her name is Sasha Mitchell and she is interested in this here business man." Daryl hands over the book to Rick but has it quickly snatched by Shane who checks out the cover and opens it to the chapter called Attitude. _A black woman without an attitude is like fried chicken without an important ingredient such as salt._

"What kind of Bullshit is this?" Shane marveled as he went to the very beginning of the book. "If I got to read a book to date a black woman than I will pass for sure. Then this added shit in the beginning:

 _"A kiss, when all is told, what is it? An oath taken a little closer, a promise more exact. A wish that longs to be confirmed, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love'. A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear, a moment of infinity humming like a bee, a communion tasting of flowers, a way of breathing in a little of the heart and tasting a little of the soul with the edge of the lips!― Edmond Rostand, __Cyrano de Bergerac_ ,"

Shane read allowed and then continued, "What does this shit mean? What kind of Davinci Code shit is this?"

"Poetry shit, I think. The author says you will understand once you kiss a black woman." Daryl shrugged.

"Cyrano de Bergerac, was required reading when we were in school." Rick informed.

"Sounds familiar. He had the big nose?" Shane tried to recall.

"Yeah. I think he was in love with a Rose-Roxanne-Roxanne and he thought he was too ugly so he-" Rick was cut off by Shane by the abrupt closing of the book.

"You really going to try and read this shit Grimes?" Shane was once again flabbergasted, shoving the book into Rick's chest.

"Yeah. I want too." Rick grabbed the book before it hit the ground. "I've never been with her type and any insight I can get would be appreciated. I just want to know the basics."

"Can't go based on television shows. Real life. This author says he only dates black women. Knowledge right there in those pages." Daryl proclaimed.

"Weird." Shane shakes his head. "Both of you touched with Jungle fever. Same damn time. What the fuck?"

"Racist motherfucker." Daryl started.

"Get the fuck use to it. Both of you. Neither one of you dated a black woman before and now you going to bring her around family and friends. Get the fuck use to it and grow some fucking balls. Shit will be said. You will be part of the gossip mill around here. Jokes will be made. Shit you have to consider and I am quite sure there will come a time Michonne and I will air our dirty laundry list before we can even share civil words for two minutes and the only reason I am willing to do it is because Rick is like a brother to me. You, Daryl Dixon may have to move your white ass out of Kings County because Pattybelle won't rest and Meryl won't either."

"Why you have to use the word, weird?" Rick asked.

"How else do you explain this bullshit? Bullshit is what this is, you both running a high fever and you're in cahoots to do stupid shit instead of looking at things logically."

"How so?" Rick wanted to understand where Shane was coming from with his assumptions.

"What is it that is different? You have an advantage. Daryl here has an advantage. It's not like you trolling the world wide web dating sites and you finally stumble upon a beautiful African American Woman that finds you possibly interesting enough to want to hook up. You know these women by chance encounters. _Hi, my name is Rick, or Hi, my name is Daryl._ Two women know of your existence and possible interest in pursuing something more, well not my friend Rick here, he still got Michonne thinking he speaking for me and some other crazy shit. Either way, both women are lawyers. They aren't sliding down some stripper pole at the Honky Tonk on Clydes Ave."

"The Honky Tonk doesn't have women of color." Rick pointed out.

"Well let's say that they did. Michonne and Sasha, you wouldn't find parading around half naked dancing to some Kane Brown tune at the Honky Tonk. Another example, you won't find them in the rappers video's. They aren't the kind you would call bitches, hoes, and whatever else they go on about in the garbage they consider music. My point is, go with the flow. Don't over think shit. Have a good time and don't leave out any details about the sex. I am dying to know if sex with a black woman is really better than anything ever experienced. Please for the love of GOD, one of you hit a fucking homerun and tell me all about it. Every lip tickling tit detail."

Daryl and Rick shared a look. They were in agreement that Shane was an asshole.

"Thanks for the book, Daryl."

"Yeah. Read the book. It has some good information."

"Thanks."

...

"I'm just waking up. Never slept in a bed that was this comfortable in my life."

The bed was more than comfortable. The home was amazing and it felt like a very intimate opportunity to move forward with Michonne if he played his cards just right. Rick had an intense erection and the need to rub one out was awful. Michonne wearing his brown T-Shirt, barely covering the middle of her chocolate thighs had him aroused again. Sunday morning sex or recuperating. In bed Sundays with Michonne. He allowed his imagination to get the best of him.

"She has a nice place?" Shane asked.

"Magazine nice."

"She seems the type." Shane surmised.

"Outdoor pool that I can see from my window. Bathroom has a urinal that squirts. Sensors of some kind."

"What?"

"Crazy. Took a piss and it got me wet. It has a couple of buttons. A toilet beside it mounted to the wall too. Wood floors."

"Wood floors in the bathroom?"

"Not any kind of wood floors. I will send you a picture when I go in there again."

"A picture of the bathroom. Not a picture of your dick pissing."

"What?"

"Just in case. Wanted to make it clear. You have been very goofy as of late. Clear instructions are what you are in need of it seems."

"Why are you calling me?"

"Just letting you know I went by your place and Michonne was there too." Shane informed.

"She was there? She made another trip back?" Rick found the news perplexing.

"Michonne seems to be running things. You sure that is the kind of woman you want?"

"I've never been with anyone like her and I don't see her take charge persona as a negative."

"What about that book. Have you read through it? Seems like your study guide was a waste of time if you ain't tried to read through it."

"You were the main one saying to not follow the book."

"Seeing what I saw last night, I changed my mind. I have no idea how black women are or supposed to be after seeing Michonne fall out your bathroom window."

"I wonder why she did that?"

"Wearing that skimpy ass brown T-shirt."

"Yeah."

"She has nice legs." Shane mused.

"Yeah." Rick agreed.

"I had a dream about her and it made for an awkward experience seeing her today in the daylight. She was fully dressed this time. The scowl she wore kind of ruined the sex fantasy I had going on in my mind about her. That is one woman that should not scowl. I told her that and she was ready to give it to me right on the chin. I think she has this belief she is above the law."

"Why do you like to get her riled up?"

"Do you know how many times that woman has gotten me in trouble? I've had a pristine record in the department and she marring it all up with possible mishandling of case files and inappropriate conduct."

"She is doing her job. I would never get in the way of her doing what she needs to do." Rick informed.

"Heaven help us all at the station once you get a good taste of that pussy."

"I am hanging up."

...

"You showed him how to work a Miele coffee maker, but you didn't show him how to work a Bidet?"

"I wasn't thinking." Michonne admitted. Most men Michonne dated knew what one was and how to use it. She didn't have many men over to her home or any that was overnight guest other than Mike and he knew how to use a Bidet.

"How much damage, Michonne?"

"I don't know yet. Ms. Rosa says it's not bad. She can take care of it. I am just thinking the worse scenario."

"All this from, Baby wipes?"

"I should have just told him to back off from changing my tire."

"You were attracted to him. If you weren't you would have told him to back the fuck up."

"He was looking so good in that suit."

"What would your Bigmama say about us?"

"We some fast heifers."

"So, he doesn't know how to use a Bidet." Andrea stated.

"I know."

"You know what that means?" Andrea led the conversation.

"I know what it means."

"It is a no go. Do not proceed with this man. Remember? Any man that doesn't know how to use a bidet is a dirty ass bastard."

"Damn you, Andrea."

"I am just repeating back to you the shit you told us after your self discovery of the ass shower."

"I have to rethink my whole damn life."

"I would say you do." Andrea agreed.

"Not everyone is aware how to use it." Michonne pointed out.

"How do you propose you and Deputy Grimes will have this conversation?"

"I am thinking."

"Remember you are the same person that clogged his toilet with Baby Wipes and you want to talk to him about not pissing in your Bidet. Please take your time as you figure out how you, person A can even begin a conversation with person B?"

"Shit, I know."

"Which Bidet?"

"The one with the Tiger wood flooring."

"Oh my God Michonne."

"It was supposed to be Art. Not actually used. If used, used correctly."

"You will not buy a new ass cleaner, Michonne."

"I have to remind myself that he didn't shit in it. I have to keep reminding myself."

"You will not buy a new ass water squirt or I will take away your charging privileges myself so help me God."

"I am going to have to put this on my credit card."

"You just paid off your card to only turn around and go back in debt? Why didn't you just let him file it under his homeowner's and pay his deductible? And you file whatever bullshit he has done under your homeowners, and he pays your deductible if there is any serious damage?"

"Can you stop making sense right now? I mean where were you when I was taking my ass out the window, Andrea?"

"I was in the shit with you. You panic, we all fucking panic but this-30k in damages? How many estimates?"

"Just the one so far. I went down this morning while Rick was sleeping because the guestimate I got from the plumber, and the remediation company had me confused. I am sick."

"I hope this isn't bowel induced sickness."

"I just got off the phone with Ms. Rosa who was about to shoot the Deputy but luckily she called me first. I am almost home. It doesn't matter, Andrea. I am ready to wave a white flag. I am ready to surrender."

"I would have Ms. Rosa in a nut house. I would send a letter to Rosita with my sincerest apologies." Andrea responded simply, seriously.

"I can't do that. I know you wouldn't do that. Rosita was one of us."

"Now she is a convicted felon. Crazy broad."

"Where's Sasha?"

"I mention the word crazy and you ask about Sasha? She's in court. She's still pissed off with you for hanging up on her. I told her the shit that happened to you last night, that you both are square. Even. Get the fuck over it."

"She need to replace my shit from my Never Know Bag. I want a new Never Know Bag from the two of you. Pilfering from my shit."

"I only ate the peanut butter protein bars. Your bag's value was far greater than the cost of protein bars."

"You expect me to put new shit where shit once dwelled?"

"What color bag?"

"It's the principle."

"What color?"

"Orange."

"Wait! Don't deflect. We have money to start our own, Law Firm, Michonne. I can't let your shit, literally get in the way of our dream of Benton, Anderson, Mitchell and Associates. No. No. NO. NO. I know, Sasha would agree."

"How do I tell him to file it under his homeowner's after I said I would take care of everything?"

"Call Bigmama and ask her."

"I have to call her anyway because I went to the grocery store."

"What?"

"I need her to help me make breakfast."

"Michonne, I hope for your sake you don't burn your house down in your attempt."

"Are you jinxing me?"

...

"Are you going to help me or not?"

"Not."

"I don't have to use this Le Creuset. I have other pans."

"You do not season a pan with seasoning salt. That is not seasoning Michonne. Now stop. Tell the truth and shame the devil now. Tell the man you don't know shit about cooking and tell him now. You will have a good laugh about it later, I am sure."

"Why are you punishing me?"

"Last time you smoked up your kitchen leaving the cooking oil on the eye. Now you changed the shit out and got a gas stove with the fancy red knobs. Back away from the kitchen Michonne." Bigmama warned. She was thankful that Noah reminded her.

"Hi" Rick greeted.

"You slept for a long time." Michonne was surprised to find Rick behind her in her large kitchen.

"He up, Michonne? I can hear him loud and clear." Bigmama informed.

"I did. Exhausted. Does all your guest rooms have very comfortable mattresses?"

"You want to test them out?"

"Listen to you, Michonne. I know I taught you better than that. Fast ass heifer."

"Now that was an invite." Rick wanted to choke after he made the declaration.

"Clearly." Michonne wanted to kick herself for proving yet again that her Bigmama was right that she was indeed a fast heifer.

"I am sorry about the bathroom. Ms. Rosa wouldn't allow me to help her. I had no idea how to turn the water off the second time. I had no idea what she was trying to explain to me about the squirting toilet. She told me to leave it alone. Don't use."

"Yeah, I should have told you-"

"You should tell everybody that has the chance to come into your home that you have a toilet that shoot water, air and GOD only knows what else." Bigmama replied.

"...That Ms. Rosa stays here. To be on the look out for her."

"We going to bypass the magic toilet in every room to focus on Ms. Rosa?" Bigmama was in shock.

"She says she speaks very little English."

"She is probably where you get the lying from, Michonne." Bigmama reasoned.

"She speaks good enough English, Rick."

"Ms. Rosa is a talker. I really only caught a few English words about a gun, court date and her saying you don't know how to cook." Rick informed.

"She speaks very poor English, I should say. She tries." Michonne took back what she had said moment ago.

"You got Noah spitting out his soda. Clean that shit up, Boy." Bigmama couldn't hold her laughter in over the development that the Deputy Sheriff may have been given the truth about Michonne.

"Did you go to work this morning? I know you said you had a meeting."

"Things got rearranged." Michonne didn't want him to know that she had to do some fast thinking and juggling of her schedule which included going back to King's County and a visit to the grocery store.

"Sorry about that. I feel responsible." Rick apologized.

"Just imagine if we just waited for the Emergency Road Service to come and change my tire." Michonne mused.

"I have no idea why you didn't just do that, Michonne." Bigmama responded.

"It would have probably prolonged everything." Rick admitted.

"What do you mean?" Michonne questioned.

"It would have been another three to four months before seeing you again." Rick put it out there. "I have no idea how long it would have taken to get to this point, standing in your place, seeing you in your kitchen reading the back of a bag of flour."

"We will be doing nothing with flour, Michonne."

"It had a recipe on the back. Biscuit recipe. Different from how I make my biscuits."

"You don't make biscuits. I guess that is the truth. One made and one never been made before."

"How so?" Rick was curious.

"You would have to taste them and be the judge."

"Why, Michonne?" Bigmama questioned.

"Can't wait."

"You want biscuits now?" Michonne was ready to panic after hearing Bigmama's responses that indicated she wasn't onboard any longer.

"Another time? Maybe tomorrow?" Rick had no idea how to tell Michonne he did not like biscuits, store bought, homemade, it didn't matter. He did not like biscuits.

"Tell him not even tomorrow, Michonne."

"Okay." Michonne waited for the sound that her Bigmama was disconnecting. Bigmama did not disconnect.

Rick and Michonne both stood there, relieved.

"Well, we will see how you fare with being under my roof for the next few days. You will tire of me and want your space back." Michonne smiled. "I am not the easiest person to live with, and I am particular."

"A truth!" Bigmama exclaimed.

"You will find that I am very accommodating, negotiable. Are you negotiable on some things?" Rick asked.

Michonne felt unrehearsed with Rick. He was so different from the other men she had experience with and it wasn't that the question posed to her was unreasonable. It was the right time to ask. It resonated more than if any typical guy would have asked her the very exact question.

"Example?"

"Does he have to be rich?"

"No."

"Does he have to be Tall?

"Taller than me. Preferable."

"What, I have about two or three inches on you?" Rick sized himself up against Michonne even though he was on the other side of her kitchen island.

"Do-able." Michonne smiled.

"I'm doable?" Rick questioned, excited at what this implied.

"Yes. I am getting way ahead of myself. I am finding myself very negotiable on things, and I will let that just stay right there."

"Right there where?" Rick smiled.

"Right there between us." Michonne smiled back.

"I would like that." Rick confirmed.

Michonne cleared her throat, "Keeping you abreast, I will have your house back in order Mr. Grimes. I've already called a company out to your home, and they claim to have everything under control. They guarantee you will be back in your home in less than five days."

Rick took note of the abrupt change in topic, "How much all this going to cost, Michonne?"

"Don't worry, my credit card company will be happy that I am back to earning air miles again." Michonne winked.

"I could have filed a homeowner's Claim. I have insurance." Rick wasn't sure why Michonne wouldn't just allow his homeowner's insurance to handle everything.

Michonne knew this was her door, her window of opportunity to take advantage but her mouth, "I have the financial means since I was negligent. I should have asked your permission to use your shower and -" Michonne stopped herself from revealing much more than that. The idea of it coming out to the insurance company that it was Baby Wipes that clogged the pipes made her sick to her stomach, especially after paying the plumber to keep quiet about the details.

"I don't mean for things to get awkward between us." Rick wondered if he was ever this way around Lori. He knew without a doubt this woman before him was the glove for his hand if it ever got cold enough to need a pair, shoes for his feet for anytime he would need protection from the path in which his direction took him. She had his best interest. He felt it.

"It's not. Are you hungry?" Michonne tried to distract from the incident that got them together in her home in the first place to his stomach that may be in need of sustenance.

"Why in the hell did you go back there, Michonne? Why are you determined to cook?" Bigmama scolded.

Michonne had no idea why? No answer to it, other than she wanted to feed this man who had facial hair growing in nicely, casually dressed in a shirt that matched the color of his eyes.

She had grapes and strawberries. She would feed him grapes and anything else his heart desired. How could she get him to lay back and let her run her fingers through his curly hair and tongue the sweet taste right from his mouth without being so forward? So frisky? Does he like his women aggressive? Fast heifers? Michonne wondered these things in a span of seconds.

"Coffee?" Rick asked.

Michonne was startled out of her thoughts that were inappropriate, "Um, yes. I have this," Michonne motioned to her built-in coffee maker. "Come. I will show you how to work it just in case you should want more."

"I got a feeling he is going to want a lot of your coffee, Michonne. I bet he like's it dark, slightly sweet, very little cream. Call me back if I got it wrong, baby."

...

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have so many distractions it is really odd compared to when I first started writing fanfiction. Everyone and Everything in real life wants and desires my attention. I am posting this now before my door opens to my bedroom for the 100th time...lol. Thanks for reading.


	6. Strength And Courage

_"When two people fall in love, they not only give up their genuine authority over their own lives, but also, they become mutual authorities of the collective life that they build together."_  
 **― Abhijit Naskar, Wise Mating: A Treatise on Monogamy**

* * *

Programmed to make the most perfect espresso, the steam from the Miele and the scent of the freshly brewed coffee, along with the sound of liquid pouring through spouts into a white porcelain mug caused Rick to pause.

The inevitable happened from the moment the two both stood close to one another in the kitchen as Michonne tried to demonstrate how to use her built-in coffee machine.

Michonne and Rick found themselves more than agreeable to pursue what was right in front of them.

Greenlight. First kiss. Slow, warm, electrifying after a brief hint of fear that was zapped away by the steady pounding of heartbeats and an eagerness to explore with ample entry for more tongue and lip nipping and sucking as the two touched and fondled places no longer sacred.

Her hair. Her ass.

His hair. His dick.

Rick was always fascinated with her hair. The book he had procured from Daryl specified to never touch a black woman's hair without expressed permission. There were many reasons, and he couldn't remember a single one other than a whole five pages describing wigs and weaves. He was positive Michonne's hair was her's and firmly attached to her scalp.

Her round mound of ass was calling for his hands from the moment he laid eyes on her and IT what seemed like a lifetime ago. He squeezed and kneaded it like dough, pressing her into him like a baker working dough on a rolling board.

She was fondling his package. Admittedly, this was what he took as permission to touch, caress and stroke any and every part of her body. Once Michonne did that, he made no more references to that book about black women. She was a woman he wanted and he was going to have her and do his best to understand her.

Michonne couldn't resist running her fingers through his hair and keeping his mouth pressed upon hers. She could tell he was really into her the way certain sounds escaped him and how excited his lower region became once her body pressed against his.

Michonne didn't have any experience with white men and the way this particular white guy could kiss including the size of what was hidden in his pants-he could get the Kat if her kitty was what he wanted from her. Her kitty was purring and ready to drool.

Coffee...The sound of percolating slowed Rick for a moment.

"Will it know to stop?" Rick asked concerned that if they were to stay distracted, she could inadvertently have a mess produced by overflowing coffee.

"Yes. It is programmed for 8 ounces. The coffee mug is-." Michonne lost her train of thought.

He was grinding his hard-on against her pelvis. His shirt was over his head and his mouth was on top of hers within a millisecond.

Rick was going to take his coffee forever black. Only black. He lifted her up and carried her into the nearest bedroom which happened to be her very own. Completely undressing each other, Rick was mesmerized by the fact that he had her beneath him and how her feisty kitty engulfed him with a warm, moist welcome home.

* * *

Michonne was more than familiar with good sex. She has had different sexual partners who provided her with different ways to reach her peak. What made Rick very different from the others was his eagerness to have her, please her, and enjoy every inch of her. There was an equal amount of passion and a sense of discovery in everything they did to please each other. For Michonne each thrust he gave her was incredible and no other man compared to him after the demonstrations he made outside of the bedroom.

Rick really did want to go bike riding, to the museum, hiking, horseback riding, kayaking. He loved cuddling and kissing in a dark corner of a jazz joint or singing in a Karaoke Bar together. Every activity indicated he was a man that wanted to do things and continued to want to do them often. It showed Michonne he wanted to do and experience things with her. Michonne found it refreshing to find a guy that wanted to be with her in every way which made her want the same. She knew immediately she was going to have to be honest.

"Okay, Confession."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay..." Rick paused for a second bracing himself for what he still considered too good to be true. He was in a perpetual state of bliss. He was in love. Now with a looming confession, he hoped her reveal wasn't going to have him back in Kings County completely heartbroken and miserable. He had no idea what it was that she wanted to tell him or why she wanted to discuss it in the middle of another good round of sex. He went slightly flaccid.

Michonne began winding her hips noticing a change in size.

Rick realized he wasn't supposed to stop. His body reacted even though his mind was screaming to his heart there was something to worry about. He met her sudden plunge by lifting his hips and halted her.

He hissed.

She whined because she knew she was going to have to stall her pleasure.

It took a moment for Michonne to think of a way to be as straightforward as possible. She had her Bigmama's voice echoing in the outer and deep recesses of her mind. Bigmama can affect sexy time.

"I really don't know how to cook." Michonne blurted.

Ping!

This reveal had Rick back to full-throttle.

"I know. I know...Oh God, I know." Rick was on sensory overload. He was going to nut based on honesty.

"How?" Michonne would have remained immobile if Rick wasn't making a great effort in lifting her up and down at a certain pace.

"Ms. Rosa. Your Bigmama." Rick grunted. He began to lift her up and down faster.

"When did you talk to my Bigmama?"

Rick felt constrained by this sudden request for details. He was in need of release from his buildup brought on by her involuntary flutter from her pelvic muscles that were constricting at random. Her immobile pussy was causing what he considered marvelous foreplay around his throbbing penis. He opened his eyes and realized Michonne really wanted a response to her question.

"Ms. Rosa gave me your house phone with your Bigmama on the other end. I was surprised. I asked Ms. Rosa what she wanted with me. Ms. Rosa said she wanted to tell me that you can't cook."

"Where was I when this was going on?"

"You went to your bathroom for your birth control. When you realized you forgot to take them because you were or had been so used to that stick thing in your arm."

For a few days, Rick's condomless dick was telling Michonne's unprotected pussy that his hot dog was going to enjoy reproducing with her hot cat if it came down to it. Making it official was the awkward part. Rick already knew she was the one for him and with the amount of unprotected sex, they were having it was a given he was putty. Whatever Michonne wanted he was going to do his damnedest to provide.

"Why are you now telling me this?"

"It wasn't a big deal. It isn't a big deal, Michonne."

"How long were you going to let me continue to lie to you?"

"Michonne, I hate biscuits. I don't like them whether from scratch or store bought from a can. But if you attempted to make it, I would attempt to eat it."

"You said you like-"

"Are we even. All of our skeletons out of the closet?"

"About the flooding..."

"I don't care Michonne. I want you. I'm in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you are okay with spending that kind of time with a guy like me."

"Are you asking me, Rick?"

"Yes. I want to marry you, Michonne. Will you marry me?"

"Are you serious?"

"I am. I want you to be the mother of our first child. I want that outfit in the drawer over there to be the outfit we take our baby home in. I want to be your husband when we do that."

Michonne took her time, and Rick received his answer while continuing to lock eyes with the woman above him as they both increased their speed for a much prolonged happy ending. Sealing the deal was her orgasmed produced, YES, Yes, yes...

For Rick, the last yes was so erotic and sexy with her lips so close to his ear. She brought her voice down to a much lower octave. His climax was reached right then and there. She said yes.

* * *

Rick held the door open surprised to see his parents step through the threshold to come inside as if he had made a call and invited them. He wasn't expecting them. They were never uninvited or made to feel that way. They were parents who were getting up in years. In the past, his marriage to Lori slowed them down from visiting often. Ever since he had become single his parents didn't want him to be too lonely.

"We are so happy you have gotten your place back to normal, son." Mother Ella commented from where she stood in the tiny entryway. The home was well kept and orderly. Freshly painted walls, flooring, and furniture was a significant upgrade. It was far less old and country like. It was more modern.

Rick spied the familiar looking envelope in his father's hands. It was the exact envelope he helped Michonne with while he stayed in Atlanta while his home was being renovated once the water damage was handled by his homeowner's insurance.

It was an invitation to his wedding in three weeks.

"Ummm, about that-" Rick began.

Frank cut his son off from finishing, his tone was stern, "We are getting right down to business, I see."

The feeling Frank got from his son, Rick indicated that what he had in his hand, inside of the envelope wasn't some sort of prank like Lori, their former daughter n law had suggested.

Lori had received an invitation too.

"Yes, Dear. Please explain." Rick's mother insisted.

"We couldn't wait." Rick began.

"Couldn't wait to what? Inform us you had a secret girlfriend or a fiancee or even that you were in a serious relationship?"

"We got married."

"You married someone we had only met once?"

"I am in love with her. I asked her to marry me while I was staying with her in Atlanta."

"You were there for a whole month, son."

"A month too long," Frank commented to his wife.

"The first week was kind of crazy. The second week I knew. I asked, and she had said, yes. A few days later we were at the courthouse. We have been married a month and a half. You have an invitation to an actual wedding. I want Michonne to have a wedding I want her to wear a white dress and not remember her day, our day in biking gear. I realized it's important to her even though I got everything I seemed to ever want in one woman without a lavish setting to make her all mine. No one knows we are already married. Just you and Mom. No one else. Not even, Shane. He's invited too."

"Oh my God."

"Was this all her idea?"

"Her dream. My idea. I want more than anything to see her wear one of those dresses from the magazine she collects. I want that. She doesn't necessarily care now that we are married, but her excitement was obvious when I started looking through those magazines and helped with every single thing she tasked me with from the list of people to invite, church, reception, menu, cake, and the music."

Thump.

It was up to Rick or his father Frank to pick his mother Ella up off the floor. She had fainted. She lay flat on her back blocking any entry or exiting to his small home.

This wasn't something uncommon for his mother Ella who was known to have an episode. Her inability to handle sudden news involving her son Rick had not gotten any better, and he was well into his thirties.

Her lying at his feet was deemed murder by his Dad who still kept his hands on his hips with the protruding wedding invitation practically crumpled.

Rick braced himself for the accusation.

"You just killed your mother, son. She is good as dead now."

"I thought it only right to tell you the truth while you were both standing here."

"There are some things you just don't spring on us."

"Now you both know. She is my wife. And with knowing this, choose your words very carefully. I will not accept any comparison between Michonne and Lori. They are not the same. I don't, let me rephrase, I will not allow you to treat my new wife any differently than how you treated Lori."

"This woman is the same woman Shane had outside your home that night," Frank recalled. "The one he was going to arrest."

"Shane was never going to arrest Michonne when he had no grounds because she was an invited guest inside of my home no matter how he found her exiting it."

"This isn't making any sense. How can you marry a woman you-"

"Her name is Michonne Benton. Technically she will keep that name because of her business, but outside of that, she is a Grimes. She is happy about me being her husband, and any child we have will carry our family name."

Frank's bewilderment vanished, replaced by awe in what he was hearing from his only son who had always been pragmatic which conflicted in more ways than not with how he as a father perceived the world.

Rick's father's tone was accusatory.

"Son, you have absolutely gone mad."

"I love her and nothing is going to change that. Not you, mother or anyone else for that matter."

Frank had to concede defeat or lose any chance to have a relationship with his only child. He wasn't about to risk it no matter how dogmatic he leaned in his later years in life. He offered his mindset to his son.

"We just didn't know what to make of this invitation. You had never discussed with your mother and me about the serious nature of your relationship outside of Lori. You haven't brought any woman by to meet us. To be honest, we thought you were still hung up over Lori. We always thought Lori was the only woman for you and if you two had ever had any children, it wouldn't have been easy to give up on each other."

"Michonne is pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"It's still very early. We got the results yesterday."

The word pregnancy instantly revived mother Ella who's eyes fluttered open. She lay there motionless wondering who was going to take notice and help her up. There was an actual wedding to attend and a baby to plan for.

* * *

"They have plans this coming weekend you know?"

"I know."

"Spa day." Shane's tone was annoyed that Rick wasn't showing any signs of caring about what their wives conspire to do together.

"Michonne loves them."

"How do we know if they are really going to the spa?"

This had given Rick a moment of pause. It was so strange to even doubt Michonne. The whole concept was foreign. He trusted her explicitly.

"What makes you think they aren't or haven't in the past?"

"They come back all happy and chatty. I know you aren't, but I am suspicious, my friend."

"You want to have a spa day for us guys? I can have Michonne arrange that for us if you want."

"What the hell?" Shane waves his hand in disgust, "Rich coming from a man who uses a damn bidet."

Rick argued his point taking no offense from Shane's comment, "I love Michonne's spa days. I love when she splurge on herself. She always has me in mind when she does the little extra things they include in those packages. I think I could get Michonne on board for that for sure. They have packages for men. I was just looking at a brochure the other day. Two days and two nights. There's one for couples. I kinda want to do the couples, but I have to run that by Mich and then making sure my parents don't have any plans, so they come and watch our kids. Michonne doesn't trust babysitters, especially not for two days. She trusts my parents and her Bigmama, but Bigmama wouldn't do it for two days. Two hours, yes. Two days, no."

"Never would I have guessed this shit for us." Shane sighed. "I can only spend time with you after church services at a damn kids park. Tell Michonne, I said-."

"I will not. If I were to go and tell my wife about anything you want her to know I won't have peace. When I go home it just me, her, our kids and my parents on more occasions than I can tolerate. I won't bring words from you inside of my home. I love her. Nothing has changed and damn you for thinking I would. I'm crazy about that damn woman."

"Tell me about it. You look just as pussy whipped as you did the month you came back from staying with Michonne in Atlanta. How long ago was that and how many damn kids later?"

"Seven years ago and four kids later."

"You ain't itching yet?"

"Not even a little."

"Your kind of pussy whipped is like listening to you purr into a megaphone. My God, friend, how much longer must I wait this shit out with you? Fucking listening to suggestions you got from the girls club to relay to me so I can relay it to Daryl. Goddamn it. One day my wife will come to me with plans about all of us spending time at some fucking spa. One of these days she will keep this group shit to a minimum and let us men make our own decision on what the fuck we want to do with our time. No influence by them whatsoever. Damn it. When is this fucking spa day? Don't these women know we have a fucking town to protect?"

Rick chuckled, "I am in this thing called marriage till death. My wife comes before this damn town."

"Please don't let the citizens of King County know you said that out loud and proud."

Rick revealed his ring finger where he thumbed his gold band, "This weighs more than that." Rick was suggesting the that was the concealed weapon he had hidden near the back of his shirt. If it came down to it, he was going to protect his wife and children with his life.

Shane was desperate for a break. Finding no way to get it unless the men stood together and broke from routine groupie couple things that the women loved to do. If he could sway Rick then Michonne would take heed and his wife would follow suit. Domino effect was taking years and yet it seemed it would never happen, he was becoming impatient.

Rick didn't mind breaks which were equivalent to spa days for women which were fishing on the lake for them, the husbands, once a month. Breaks weren't something he required because he enjoyed everything about being a good father and a great husband.

"Sex is still good and often. Went to church because she got in late last night from a conference. I don't think I will be in attendance for next Sunday though."

Rick smirked knowing that Shane didn't understand the full magnitude of in bed Sundays. Thoughts of it kept him preoccupied.

"I am not concerned about next Sunday, I am concerned about now. I need you to be the fucking man and tell Michonne you and I are going to hang out at Merl's Honky Tonk Bar this Tuesday."

"Titty Tuesdays?" Rick asked.

Rick couldn't believe his ears nor the crazy suggestion for a guys night out. If he were to even utter it to Michonne again, it would wreak havoc on his marriage.

"Titty Tuesday? Where the hell you get that name from? It's called Wet T-Shirt Tuesday."

Rick got the name from Michonne who had got it from Bigmama who was on the phone unbeknownst to him when he had brought it up six months ago.

Michonne had laid down some straightforward rules to stay happily married, and Rick was more than willing to follow them because they were simple requirements from Bigmama. STAY OUT OF BARS, STRIP JOINTS, and NIGHT CLUBS unless they were going together or he was dragging someone out due to an arrest warrant that no one else was able to serve but him. _"Aint about trust. It is about respect." per Bigmama._

"Heard they have a fine selection," Shane continued.

"How do you know, have you gone?"

"Nope. Abe told me all about it. I've been waiting for you. You know damn well Andrea won't let me do anything that Michonne won't let you do. You get Michonne on board then Andrea will follow suit. Monkey see Monkey do. My wife can't seem to have her own mind. It' like shit has to be discussed between her, Michonne and Sasha. They have to form some type of bullshit consensus. Usually, your wife's logic wins out."

"It ain't my wife. It's Bigmama."

"Bigmama?"

"Yep. And she doesn't like you very much. She thinks you and your type of suggestions is a man who can't do the devil's handiwork without a friend to tag along."

"If I am such a bad guy why she invites me to dinner twice a month?"

"Because she knows Andrea can't cook, and she likes to watch you eat."

"Damn that Bigmama can cook her ass off."

"Yeah."

"Hey, don't derail this conversation with Bigmama. I want to know when are we going to hang out like before this married life and married rules? Rules are meant for breaking if we stand up for our convictions."

"You haven't heard a word I said."

"You know I tend to go deaf when you speak through Michonne pussy's megaphone. Can't seem to hear you or know exactly your thoughts that aren't influenced by that woman."

"That woman is my wife."

"Damn, I can't hear you."

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy the ice cream man is here. Can we have some money?"

"Remember what we had talked about?" Rick question was directed to Abigail who was five minutes older than Judith.

"Yes, Daddy."

"A teaching moment."

Abigail nodded. She accepted the two dollars bills knowing it wasn't enough to get what they liked the best from the ice cream truck.

Rick spied his three-year-old son dusting off the sand from his jeans and hands ready to make his way over to where he sat on the park bench just 5 feet from him and the ice cream truck twenty additional feet away.

"Don't forget your brother, Carlton and his Orange Pushup. He doesn't care too much for what you two like the best."

"What do you want, Daddy?"

"I will help Carlton with his Pushup if they happened to not have any left then an Orange or Cherry Popscicle will be fine for me to share with your brother."

Rick knew he was going to have to work fast for any leaking or overflow when it came to Carlton's aversion to having things leak or stick to his skin or fingers. Baby wipes came in handy along with hand sanitizer including him licking droplets.

"Money, please Daddy!" Judith exclaimed.

Rick handed her a 10 dollar bill and watched her face fall. There was a fit ready to break loose, a tantrum that needed just a second to reveal itself, but Abigail distracted her twin by giving her the two singles, and she took the 10 dollars from Judith who was back to her happiest. The two girls broke out into huge smiles turning to run towards a small crowd of other children waiting to purchase.

Shane was curious and usually would keep quiet regarding interactions between father and child, but he wanted to know a little bit more about this parenting trick from his friend.

"What sense did that make. Why didn't you just give them the ten dollar bill only?"

"Judith wants what Abigail has which is the two one dollar bills. In Jude's mind, two dollars is more than a single 5 or 10. Abigail is going to show her sister the value of money. Abby is going to show Jude what she can select with just the amount she has in hand before using the $10.00."

"Interesting. Abigail is pretty smart already, huh?"

"Teachers think so. Once Jude grasps the concepts, she is not too far behind her-."

"Daddy, ice cream?" Carlton began climbing on his lap giving his 6-month-old brother a reason to kick and grab at his bushy hair.

"We've talked about this, Carl. I need you to sit on the bench whenever I have Andre in his carrier."

"My carrier!"

"Now it is his Carrier. Now you sit." Rick instructed.

Carlton did as told. He wasn't too happy about it. He sat between his Dad and his Uncle Shane who ruffled his hair. Baby Andre tried to stretch and lean forward in hand me down 360* child carrier where he was positioned facing forward.

"Hands, Daddy."

Rick reached inside of the pocket of the diaper bag and retrieved the item that would be in high demand once his daughter got back with their treats.

"What's going on with your boys, over there. They never seemed to be interested in like the other kids regarding the ice-cream truck?"

"I'm giving them enough time to stop fighting. It's up to them to make it over in time before the truck takes off. Time management."

Shane continued to watch his 7-year-old son Tyler born from his sex-capade with Carol who could still do amazing things with a boa and his 7-year-old Chandler who was conceived with his wife, Andrea. He was and had been committed to his wife Andrea from the moment he said I do. He had never cheated because Andrea didn't give him room to breathe as long as 4-year-old Braxton remained leashed to his wrist and their 2-month-old slept in an identical 360 carrier was against his chest. The only escape was work, and when his shift was over as a deputy, all he wanted to do was sleep after completing every chore that was waiting for him.

"How did these women put us on lockdown so easily?"

"Love I suppose."

Shane still found it fascinating that his friend always spoke of love as if it were fresh.

"We have women we are crazy about. Daryl and Sasha are working on a second kid. You have a woman who challenges you, and I live for Sundays. If it can get any better than that, I reckon we have all died and officially gone to heaven."

"Well, you are a good guy. Loyal. She would've been a fool to pass you up and go for me. I am the one she really wanted." Shane joked.

Rick laughed. He was confident what Shane spoke was far from any truth. The things he had to do for Shane to step foot in their home wasn't ever revealed to his childhood friend and never would be. His wife still didn't like Shane. She put up with him because he was his friend.

"I am really amazed, my friend because you two still don't make sense together."

"Lucky for me I didn't give a shit what made sense to others. You included."

* * *

Rick sat on the edge of the bed with his pillow covering his lower region. It was Saturday night, and the kids were all bathed and fast asleep in their beds. It was just him and Michonne who had her hand on her hips pointing at him with a whole lot of words coming out of her mouth but nothing answering his question that he posed to her four minutes into what he hoped would be a short conversation.

"Aren't you going to answer me?"

"Not until you answer my question. I asked you if you are pregnant and I get your detailed request for me to get a vasectomy."

"I am not pregnant."

"Then why must I get a vasectomy?"

"Because, Rick. I mean how many kids do you want? Don't you think we have enough?"

"You have the answer's to that, Michonne. I don't. I told you from the beginning I wanted a lot of kids. I don't mind and wouldn't have mind whatever your decision about what was right. I never saw you as someone who wanted to be like the Dugger family or Kate plus eight. I saw you as the only woman I wanted to have kids with and right now we have four. I can't be any happier or content."

"We need to practice birth control."

"I don't think a vasectomy is considered practicing. You want to neuter me. Why you want to go and do that?"

"Because I regret not having my tubes tied after Andre. The perfect time would have been right then but you and I can't seem to have a conversation about how to stop overpopulating the earth when you actually look happy and content. Why are you so damn easy."

"Do you want me to be hard? Because I am." Rick lifts the pillow to show her his erection. "Saturday night gets me horny every time."

"You are incorrigible do you know that?" Michonne eyed Rick to stop with the sexy talk.

"I want you to wear me out."

"Why are you derailing this conversation?"

"Just kiss me and sit on it or kiss it and lick it."

Michonne could tell that Rick had a one track mind. She thought he didn't care and he was taking their talk to another level on purpose but he wasn't aware they had a listener. Bigmama. Michonne put her phone on speaker for Bigmama to be heard loud and clear. He caught on quickly with the blue tooth in Michonne's ear.

"How long you two been married now?" Bigmama asked even though she knew the answer.

"Over seven years."

"You got a husband still fresh about you. You need to count your blessings and be smart about it. I ain't one to brag but I will say I raised you better. Now tell the man the truth or I will shame the devil for you."

"Rick, I went to the doctor today."

"He asked you straight up. Now you need to be straight up. He ain't asked you nothing about where you have been, He had asked you if you are pregnant. Now answer that right now." Bigmama was holding Michonne's feet to the fire.

"Are you pregnant, Michonne?" Rick asked again.

Michonne tearfully admitted by nodding her head.

"You got a good man there. You don't want to carry a heavy burden by doing something that will hurt him to his core if he ever found out. You say you told no one but you told me because you know Andrea and Sasha can't hold water for too long. I'm not going to hold your water for you either. I ain't in the business to be smiling in nobody's face over Sunday dinner when I am privy to something they have the right to know. I don't give a shit about it is your body and your decision. Keep it to yourself if I ain't-a factor in decision making. He's a good man and he has the right to know where your mind was or where it still may be. If he really loves you it will be all good and something you move past. Good night and call me in the morning."

Moments passed and the tears flowed from the two people that were in the bedroom. Michonne never felt more in love with the man who wasn't quite sure what he was crying about or _for_ but that he felt everything tied to her and her well-being. Rick felt compelled to ask again to be certain because her decision weighed heavy on his heart and his soul.

"Are we _going_ to have a baby?"

Michonne fell to her knees where he sat burying her face into the pillow on his lap. "Yes."

* * *

"I can't believe this shit." Shane checked his watch and began to wrinkle the brochure in his hands.

"How painful do you think it is?" Rick asked knowing neither of his friends had a clue as they sat waiting.

"Sasha says it is equivalent to getting a tattoo."

"What pain level is that?" Rick couldn't imagine.

"Neither of you jackasses ever got a Tat?" Daryl watched both men shake their heads.

"I have five and it was a cakewalk. Now a bee sting hurts or hitting your thumb with a hammer. Done that, survived it, barely. Shit hurt."

"What kind of pain you think it might be?" Rick nervously asked Shane.

Shane wasn't about to sugarcoat and he was 80% sure Sasha had fed Daryl more bullshit.

"The only thing I can think of is being kicked in the balls." Every word he spoke he felt was the closest to the truth and if didn't love Andrea so much he would fucking Divorce her with his balls intact.

"Now that is fucking miserable." Daryl sympathized.

Rick wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"But Sasha said it is like a Tat. I ain't down for no shit that is going to feel like a knee to the groin."

With great anticipation a nurse steps into the waiting area, "Grimes, Walsh, and Dixon, Congratulations you guys are next."

* * *

A/N: This story had been sitting and sitting and sitting. I dug it up since I made mention of it in my Author's note for Swipe. I have a few older stories that I need to get back too. But in the meantime Merry Christmas 2018! COMPLETED!

I will make corrections after posting because any other way it would never get done.


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